The Scorpion
by Mademoiselle Bree
Summary: What if Erik didn't let Christine go? Leroux/Kay Erik. Rating is subject to change. PLEASE NOTE: My penname has changed from Queen of Hearts 1995 to Mademoiselle Phantom. I hope this will not cause you any conflict. Thank you!
1. Chapter 1

He had said it would only be a short while. He was an old man, and didn't have many years left. So he thought, at least. I never knew his true birthday. But as time went by, I found myself doing something I had never thought I would; dreading the day my poor, unhappy Erik would be gone.

So, perhaps I should explain myself before going any further.

I turned the scorpion. Of course I dreaded and feared it with all of my life. It was the unknown and the consequences were limitless. But for so many, the ones I loved the most, I had to sacrifice myself.

After much begging, pleading, and crying many tears, Erik had finally agreed to return the Persian man and my dearest, beloved Raoul safely to the surface. I had only to pledge that, should they awake, I would not breathe a word to them. I was Erik's wife now, and he would not share my companionship with any others except those of his choice. Especially not men, and most especially not Raoul. I agreed, choking back the tears that threatened to emerge. Being Erik's wife, I would have to strengthen myself. I could no longer cry at passing, meaningless moments. I had no reason to speak to Raoul now. I thought if I detached from the memories I would manage without him.

After he had finally taken them for the surface, I waited on his return. I waited as patiently as I could, not knowing what else to do.

He came to me. Yes, wringing his hands as a meek child would do as he was being reprimanded. He looked at me imploringly, as if begging me with his poor, unhappy and tortured eyes. I could not help but feel pity with my fear. He stepped in the doorway.

For reasons unknown to me then, but clear now, I felt the need to make him keep going, force him into what he truly feared most on this Earth; love. Oh, I knew he loved me. But his love was not the sweet love of childhood. No, it was a dark love, a twisted love, a harmful love. It was a frightening love. But it was love all the same. The deepest, most burning kind of love. And what scared me most was that now I was here with him, and nothing would be able to change it. I couldn't change my mind and go back.

No, I couldn't return this love. Not yet. But I could show him what no one had, and the one thing he really wanted; compassion.

Stepping forward a few steps was all it took to encourage him to continue. He closed the space between us and kissed me, oh so softly, on my forehead. His hands rested, shaking, upon my cheeks as I felt tears fall upon my own face. It all seemed to happen so fast, yet so slow.

This man that I feared, yet loved so much at the same time, was now crying, becoming the fallen angel once more. He had always been so much stronger than I. He had been able to withhold even the worst things, yet now he cried. The one person in the world that I thought could protect me from everything, now bent pitifully before me. And I knew then that I had to continue on. I just wanted the old Erik, the manic Erik. As strange as it was to me, I needed him, and I could no longer deny that.

Through my whole childhood, he had been there. He had been everything after my father's death. He had done all he could to protect me, and comfort me. And now it was my turn to repay him. He deserved everything that I could give him. There was part of him I feared, part of him I loved, and a deep bond that would never allow me to truly live without him. No, I realized now that if I had returned with Raoul nothing would have ever been normal. I would always long for my Angel, always need him in my life.

He ripped away his mask as I began to cry. I did not scream, and did not recoil. I felt a strange peace come over me. I was not fearful. As grotesque as his face was, that was all it was. A face.

He fell to his knees, clutching at the hem of my skirt. He kissed it and then proceeded to kiss my feet lightly. My knees weakened.

"My poor, unhappy Erik," I cried as I fell to my own knees before him. I seemed to have forgotten the past hours and days. Nothing mattered except the poor, broken man before me. He was so happy simply because I was here. He didn't need much more than that, I realized. He only wanted me here, by his side. He wanted a companion, someone to love. Someone to hold, and what he seemed to need most was someone to smile about.

My fingers slid under his chin, forcing his eyes onto mine.

"Poor, broken man," it was perhaps the first time I had not called him monster. Perhaps he wasn't one. He was a man. But what had broken the simple creature of man to nothing more than a shadow, a broken shell?

I pushed myself onward, letting my lips lightly touch on his. His shock was obvious but I stayed firm, letting him understand what was happening, trying as hard as I may to show him he was not alone. I was here.

After, my head rested on his shoulder and my arms wrapped around him. I knew he didn't know what to do, so I placed his arms around me. We clung to each other for a long time after that, just holding each other close.

Though I shuddered when the memory of before came to me; the fear, torture, and morbidity of it all, I did not pull away. I was his wife now and my only duty was to please him. I was to make him as happy as I could in the short lifetime assigned to each other. I thought that I might as well find some sort of happiness in it for myself.

We stayed that way until my legs began to cramp and my muscles tighten from the cold air and floor. He rose first, offering his hand to me. I took it, allowing him to pull me from the ground.

"Christine…" he managed to breathe out my name quietly, letting his finger tips hesitantly brush my check. I leaned into his soft caress to try to show him that it was okay, but he only pulled away and sighed a deep sigh.

"You must be tired, my dear."

I gave a weak smile and nodded through the few tears that managed to emerge. He lightly took my hand and led me to the bedchamber I knew so well, pausing at the door.

"May… may I?" He asked hesitantly, leaning ever-so-slightly forward. I nodded, and he took my face gently in his hands and tilted it upward, bringing his lips down to brush against mine lightly, almost seeming to be a tickle. He broke the kiss almost as quickly as it had begun, and slowly withdrew his hands. I could see a sad smile on the corner of his mouth as he bid me goodnight.

As we retired, I knew that he wanted me to invite him to my bed. Although his innocence was obvious, I was still fearful. Knowing he only wanted to hold me tempted me to invite him if only to please him. The happier he was would be the happier I was. But I knew I could pretend like I didn't know what he wanted. So I did. I wasn't sure if I was ready to be that close to him, not yet. And the night was spent in a restless slumber for me, filled with nightmares of the day and Erik's happy face.


	2. Chapter 2

When I awoke, it took me a few moments to collect my thoughts and recall where exactly I was. Then it took a few more to remember _why_ I was here.

My mind didn't want to comprehend what had happened, or rather it couldn't. It felt as though I had been stabbed a thousand times by an invisible knife every time I moved, and my muscles cramped, leaving me with dull aching pains when I tried to rise.

Nevertheless I knew that I had to face Erik eventually. It all just seemed too strange to me, almost more of a dream than a reality to me. Even when I moved, it seemed more as if I were watching myself than actually performing the actions. I didn't like it. I never liked losing control, and that's exactly what it seemed was going on to me.

After a little exploration, I found a decent dress that was at least slightly conservative, and dressed myself as quickly as I could, fearing that he would come through the door at any moment. Why I thought this I wasn't very sure, as Erik had always respected my privacy and never entered my room while I was in it without my knowledge. He always knocked.

But I suppose the fear came from knowing I had agreed to be his wife. And that came with certain… duties. Duties which I feared he would carry out whether I consented to them or not. And I wouldn't be able to stop him. His strength was at least six times my own, though he looked so frail, he was anything but.

When I finished dressing, I decided to venture out into the strange… home, I suppose you could call it. I didn't really know what I was going to do when I saw him, but I figured it was better to get it over with sooner than later.

I knew where he was almost immediately as I heard the piano melody drifting around me. It seemed to be almost sweet for once, instead of the pounding anger I usually heard from him. As I drew closer to the source of the music, I picked up on a sadness as well, almost causing the song to be bittersweet.

The door was closed, but I knocked, hoping he would hear. But he didn't, and continued to play… I don't think that any noise from out here would have pulled him away from the music – it was almost as if he were dead when he was closed up with it. Strangely, I felt a pang of jealousy at this, almost as though I was being betrayed by him.

Instead of knocking again, I pushed the door open as quietly as I could. He was enraptured in the music and didn't turn, didn't even acknowledge me. It was almost as though I didn't exist, didn't belong in this strange and fantastical world.

Pulling myself from my thoughts, I took slow steps toward him. Even when I was only inches from him, he didn't register my presence.

"E… Erik?" He continued to play. "Erik?" Still no response. "Erik?"

I gently placed my hand on his shoulder, hoping it would bring him to speak in return to me, but I suppose I hadn't thoroughly considered my actions, for within moments I was on the ground with Erik standing above me, looking down with angry eyes.

My hand went to my burning check and my eyes widened in surprise. He had hit me… I felt the tears sting at my eyes, but forced them back, begging them not to surface.

It took him a few moments to realize what he had done… I do not know whether he did not recognize me or only choose to pretend he hadn't. It seemed as if he hadn't, for when he saw my hand move, he gasped out as though in shock.

"Christine. You should know not to interrupt me!" this wasn't said in anger, but in more of a sad tone. Almost regretful.

He knelt beside me and moved my hand slowly away. I flinched away when he tried to touch it, but he muttered, "It's okay. Shhh, shush my dear. Just let me see it… I won't hurt you."

Somehow I believed it, even though only moments before he had caused the injury which he was now looking at. For some reason, I believed almost everything he said. He could have told me the sky was purple with a golden brocade pattern and it all would have seemed true. In many ways I still was the child that longed for the gentle reassurance of fairy tales and knights in shining armor.

I let him put his cold, death-like fingers upon it and found that it felt quite good. It soothed me, yet I was shaking. I hadn't noticed it up until now, but my whole body was vibrating with silent tremors. Suddenly, he pulled back with a look of anger consuming the once sorrowful features.

"Christine must learn to never interrupt her Erik."

I knew when he started referring to himself in this way, it was best to let him rant and rave as he wished. Any attempt to calm him would only do the opposite.

He began to pace slowly, with long, drawn out steps. He went back-and-forth at least four times before looking down at me again.

He knelt and I tried to slide away, but came to a wall that ended my escape. He only sighed and grasped my forearms, then lifted me to my feet along with him.

Gently he traced my face with one finger, then sighed again and said quietly, so quietly I could barely make it out, "I will **not** hurt you. Erik will never hurt his Christine again."

I felt myself shudder under those words. However unthreatening they may have been, kind and assuring even, to me they only opened a whole new door for fear. To those who did not know him, they may have thought it an apology. To me, I knew it meant that he had been close. I only hoped that he never did go over that edge.

I managed to give him a small, shaky smile. He responded with one of his own, though I only caught the slightest hint of it by the mask moving slightly upward. Today, he wore the mask that covered even his lips. It made it only more difficult to read his expression.

He lifted said mask to expose those cold, dead-looking lips. He pressed them to my forehead, and I again shuddered out of disgust and fear, which I quickly reprimanded myself for. Had it not only been a night ago that I let him kiss me unhindered and even kissed him back, vowing to myself to love him?

My mind of course thought that it may be easier if only his whole face was exposed to me, then I may be able to think of it the same way I had before – as only a face and nothing more.

I slowly raised my hand to his mask, allowing him all the time he needed to stop me if he wished, but he only closed his eyes. He leaned his face into my hand as I caressed his jaw line, then gently slipped my fingers beneath his mask and sliding it as slowly as I could off of his face.

His eyes only clenched tighter as I allowed the mask to clatter to the floor. I knew it was because he didn't want to see the expression on my face. But he was wrong as to what my expression was… for some reason, this time seemed even easier than even last night.

Suddenly, I had the strange realization that only once had I ever touched his face, and it was that fateful night that seemed years ago, yet was only a few months before. The night that he dug my nails through the lifeless skin. Perhaps that was why the face only held horror for me, even the missing nose and empty eyes didn't bother me nearly as much anymore.

I hesitantly brought the skin of my palm to his check, and, to my surprise, he only leaned into it, clenching his eyes shut as though he feared I would disappear if he opened them. I closed my eyes along with him, committing his strange textures to memory. My fingers fluttered across his eyelids and the place where his nose should have been, over his forehead and the hallow checks, the thin skin and the exposed skull as lightly as I could. I felt the silent tears that escaped him, caressing them almost as I did his skin, catching each of them on the tip of my fingers.

When I opened my eyes, it was to meet his own glowing out of the darkness. He watched me intently, head cocked to the side in obvious surprise. I smiled lightly at him, yet he still only watched, letting the silent tears slip.

"E-Erik?"

"Hmmm?" he did not even open his lips.

"What… what ever happened to you?"

He sighed again, and this time turned away from me. Pacing slightly, till he came to sit upon the piano bench, letting his fingers graze the keys as if they were the most intriguing thing in the world. He made no move to respond until I gathered my own courage to go and sit beside him on the bench, allowing our hips to touch ever so slightly.

"You don't have to tell me, if you don't wish to," I said quietly. He only shook his head.

"I just… It was not anyone's fault, I was born this way. As a burden upon my mother's back, perhaps even a punishment for a long past sin," he let out a dark chuckle that chilled me to the bone. "That's what she always thought, at least. She really only kept me out of moral obligation, and only after the priest told her she would go to Hell for killing me…"

I grasped his shoulder and gave it a reassuring squeeze before asking, "What of your father?"

"He never saw me, never knew me. He left my mother when he met a younger lady of the night…"

For the first time, I heard his emotional shield begin to break away, leaving me a little piece to look through at him, catch a glimpse of what made him the man he was now. To see who he was beneath the façade. Somehow, at that moment, all the calmness in the world came over me – I would someday understand this man… perhaps not today, but I would make it my one goal. I was his wife and my poor, unhappy Erik deserved at least one person in the world who loved him and cared what became of him.

I let my hand remain at rest on his shoulder as he stared off, seemingly collecting his thoughts. He took on an air of dark brooding, as though he weren't really here, but rather wherever his thoughts were.

"How did you end up here?" I found the questions easier to come.

He looked at me, and though I had doubted it to be possible, he took on even more of an air of being dead. He quietly shook his head, then brought his hand to my face, returning to himself as he looked into my eyes, seeming to pierce my soul as he said, "That, my love, is a story for another day. No matter, it is behind me now."

I pressed my lips lightly to his check, whispering into his ear quietly, "My poor, unhappy Erik."

"How can Erik be unhappy when beside his Christine?" the question sounded sad, yet happy at the same time.

I knew that I was being risqué, but I knew what would make him feel better, so I moved to do it. I took his hand and pressed it over my left breast. "Can you feel that, Erik? It is my heart – the heart of your living, breathing bride. I chose you, and this heart now beats solely for you."

He lay his hand there a long time, closing his eyes and drawing breath sharply, nearly disbelievingly. We sat there longer than I could count – it could have been five minutes or hours, yet it would have made no difference. Time had no hold upon me any longer. It didn't matter, and it didn't need to.

After the long moments, he quickly drew back, snapping his eyes open quickly and fixing me with the inquisitive stare he often did when he didn't understand. It wasn't often that I had to explain myself to him, being the genius he was.

"Erik, I am yours… and solely yours…" my own words frightened me, yet I knew that whatever happened had been brought upon me only by my own will. But suddenly, the consequences didn't seem to matter to me. For a while, I blamed this on my lack of a good meal and nourishing sunlight, but now I know that's not what it was at all. No, it was only the budding of the one emotion I was afraid of… but only afraid of from Erik. Perhaps for his face, perhaps the frightening passion that seemed to fill the air around him, perhaps the unknown or my own inexperience. Whatever it was, I only wish now I had disregarded my head completely, and learned to live by my heart.

He fisted his hand in my hair, but not violently as before. No, this touch was tender and loving, gentler than I would have imagined possible from this man. He brought his lips to mine, light at first, but soon hard and demanding, almost painful but in a pleasurable way. I felt my heart flutter as I responded, letting my instincts take over and forget my fears – for what is there truly to fear, other than fear itself?

Those dry lips that I had almost fainted of before, I now nearly worshipped, adoring the way they moved against mine, the pleasure they were causing me. It was nearly frightening, yet I relished in the fear this time. Being more forward than my normal modesty would allow, I took his lower lip between my teeth, gently tugging at it as I nibbled.

He was the one who broke it, pulling back so our breaths mingled mine hot as coal, his cold as ice. My eyes widened with disbelief at the shock that had gone through my body, mainly pleasurable, but painful as well. We stared into each other's eyes for a long moment, but soon I broke our gaze to yawn loudly, drawing it out but being sure to cover my mouth with my hand.

"Christine, dear, you must be tired." I nodded absently. "Do you wish to go back to your bed chambers?"

I shook my head quickly, not wanting to leave his side for the moment. Somehow the fear of the dark and being alone was quickly returning to me, seemingly consuming me from the inside out.

"Will… will you play something for me?" He gave no response except to settle his hands upon the instrument and play the most beautiful and passionate music I had ever heard.

I don't know when exactly it was, but I drifted off into the blackness, filled with the dreams I had dreaded, yet had no escape from.

**A/N: I only just noticed that I forgot a disclaimer…. Ooops (:**

**Well, here it goes:  
I do not own Phantom of the Opera, so please don't sue me.**

**There. Well, I hope those of you reading this are enjoying it so far. Review and let me know! I'm always up for advice.**

**This chapter was not beta-read, I apologize, but I was just too excited to post it!**

**Thank you to my wonderful beta for the last chapter!**

**So, please R&R.**

**Your faithful and obedient writer,**

**Queen of Hearts**


	3. Chapter 3

_It was dark… darkness lit only by two bright stars glaring at me out of the darkness._

_ "Well, my dear," he spit the words at me like an insult. "What will it be?"_

_ Suddenly the room lit up and I was in a forest… the African forest. I was pinned to the wall beneath Erik's strong arms, hopeless to escape. Looking around, I saw a large metal tree in the middle of the room. From the end of it hung the Punjab lasso._

_ "Erik… what is going on? What… what…" before I finished, he began to chuckle. It made my stomach turn at the sound of it. Something was wrong._

_ "My dear, you know very well," he sneered into my face. Only then did I notice that he wore no mask… funny how things change, isn't it?_

_ Suddenly, I realized we weren't alone. I saw the limp figure on the floor behind Erik's long cloak. He lifted his face from the floor and looked pleadingly into my eyes, as if begging me to refuse Erik whatever he was asking._

_ Suddenly, the face of my childhood playmate rose from the floor and made it's way to the tree, pulling down the lasso silently. He put a finger to his lips as though he were shushing me, and slowly approached Erik from behind._

_ Erik smiled down toward me, looking at me as though I were an ignorant child. Just as he opened his mouth to speak his next words, the lasso was slung around him and pulled tight, forcing him to fall to the floor and claw at his throat. All it succeeded in was causing him to bleed._

_ "Raoul, no!" I cried in terror. But it was far to late. His body was already limp on the floor, cloak spread far as if it was wings. How fitting for my dark angel._

_ He released the rope and looked triumphantly down upon the body. I fell to my knees before Erik, willing him to breathe, react, speak but a word. I kissed him then, kissed those cold, dry, dead lips. And I knew he was gone._

_ I cried out loudly as Raoul pulled me away from the sight. The last thing I remembered was seeing those dead eyes stare up at the ceiling._

When I awoke, I heard my own cry of fear echo around me. I felt the wetness of tears upon my checks. It had seemed so real… perhaps I hadn't dreamt it after all. I curled around my pillow, pulling it close to my body as my tears continued to fall.

No, I couldn't stay here in the dark by myself. Not right now at least.

I stumbled out of my bedroom and made my way through the house… I felt around with my hands in front of my face. I couldn't see anything – moonlight couldn't even reach down to my begging eyes.

I could see the light spilling out of Erik's office, so I headed there. The door was open, so it's not as if he could tell me he didn't want me in there.

He was bent over his desk, penning a letter in his red ink, with that clumsy handwriting I knew so well by now. Who he was writing to or for what, I do not know. Yet, I did not care. I was only glad to see him there, breathing.

He looked up with what was obvious to be a quick glance, but ended up keeping his gaze on my. "Christine, my dear, it is so late. Why are you awake? And why have you been crying?"

I rubbed self-consciously at my red eyes. "I… I'm sorry, Erik. I had a nightmare." It sounded so childish, yet he only looked at me sadly.

"Oh, Christine. Come here my child." He opened his arms to me and I did what instinct told me – I went to him and let him cradle me in his lap. "Do you wish to tell me about it?"

I shook my head sadly, not even knowing the meaning of it myself. I didn't want his interpretation. And I was deathly afraid of what kind of violent fit the name Raoul might throw him into.

"Oh, come child. It will be okay," he began humming a soft melody and stroking my hair. I couldn't help it – the tears began to fall once more. It seemed as though I had cried more in the past few days than I had my whole life. What was becoming of me? I was slowly being swallowed by Erik's darkness… and somehow enjoying. How does it happen that the one thing I had dreaded beyond all other things was now the thing that held me together?

He brushed at my tears with his thumbs, gently shushing me. "Christine, you know you must be back to bed. It was only a dream, my Christine."

I had known he would say that. And the words popped out of my mouth before I could stop them. "I'm afraid to be alone… please, come with me?" _Damn you, Christine_.

He made no response except to snub out the candle and carry me back to my own bedroom. _Damn you, Christine. _I cursed myself the whole way. How a few words so hastily spoken could force me to face my darkest fears. _What have you done? Damn you, Christine._

He lay me in my bed and lit one of the gas lamps, turning it as bright as he could. Then came to sit on the edge of my bed after pulling the blankets over my shivering body. He let his finger trace my face again, but this time softer. Oh, he could be so gentle when he wanted to.

I let out a soft sigh, then a yawn.

"Christine, sleep now my dear. You have nothing to fear tonight." Within that promise, I heard the true meaning. He sat there, staring at me, for a long while. He had even withdrawn his finger.

He looked at me as though I were a precious metal and he was afraid to soil me. Too precious to touch. I could see the longing behind those eyes, but I could also see the battle going on behind them. He didn't know what to do. I could see that his self control was waning, and I decided to push it.

_Damn you, Christine. Damn you to Hell!_

"Will you hold me?" I don't know what had been wrong with me those past few days, but this was surely proof that solitude was not healthy for decision making.

He sank beside me, pulling the covers over both our bodies now. He put his arms possessively around my waist and pulled me close to his thin frame. I couldn't help but wonder how different Raoul would feel against me. How different these two men were – Erik was a genius. Talented musician, magician, architect, painter - Nearly everything under the sun he could master. He was so cold that night. Raoul – he was loving, warm, kind, and charming. He had supported me in all that I wanted. Perhaps if he hadn't, I wouldn't be here now. I would be in his arms instead. But now I had to question if that was what I really wanted. I may not love Erik yet, but it was hard to imagine being without him. Perhaps it was unhealthy to think these things, but I did. Fear of my own decisions raged through me.

His hand moved in my hair gently, then I heard the soft _clink_ of the mask as he set it on the bedside table. I could feel his face burying itself in my curls. I couldn't help but wonder what this may feel like to him. I felt a surge of pity and guilt as I thought of how long he had been down here, alone. How long had he been alone?

His hand touched my arm, and I felt a surge of feeling go through my veins. It frightened me really. I had never felt it before, at any time in my short 16 years of life. I gasped aloud slightly and felt him smile into my hair. He knew exactly what he was doing.

I felt heat spread through my body at his cold touch. I still remember how strange I had found it for something so cold to make me so warm.

"E-Erik?" I had to stop this before it could go any further.

"Hmmm?"

"I'm so tired. Could you turn the lamp out so I can sleep?"

"Of course, Christine. Whatever you wish."

That night was the first of many that I fell asleep within this strange man's arms.

**A/N: So, what did you think? I'm always open to critics.**

**So, I'm seriously considering writing a "love" scene for this. Opinions? I would defiantly try to keep it as non-smutty as I could. Of course, after that was written, the rating would go up to M.**

**I'm sorry for all the fluff, I promise Dark Erik will make his entrance soon enough. I'm just trying to get in the swing of things. And I'm also sorry for the shortness of this chapter!**

**But, regardless, please leave a review and let me know what you think so far!**

**Your faithful and obedient writer,**

**Queen of Hearts**


	4. Chapter 4

The question had come nearly out of nowhere.

"How would you like to go out tonight, my dear?" My heart nearly stopped as my spoon stopped halfway to my mouth.

"Out, as in above?" It seemed too good to be true.

"Of course, dear. What else could I possibly mean?" He chuckled lightly, as though it had been quite a stupid question. I just stared at him wide-eyed, and then began to nod. He laughed again, saying, "I shall take that as a yes, then."

Oh, to have air upon my face again! I found myself only day-dreaming of being around other people. I knew we would probably find somewhere private, yet even to only breathe regular air again!

"Dress warmly, Christine," he reminded me quietly.

I nodded, gave him as quick of a hug as I could, and left to change into my evening clothes, pulling my warmest traveling cloak around me. I observed myself in the small vanity mirror – the only in the house – and was slightly shocked at my appearance. Those dark circles under my eyes seemed to be permanent, as did my sickly-yellow pallor. Oh well… knowing Erik, no one would see either of us anyway.

I pulled my hair hastily into a sloppy bun, then went to meet Erik. I could hardly believe what was happening, and had to pinch myself to be sure my dreams weren't playing cruel tricks on me.

He was waiting for me very nearby, and offered his arm silently to me – in these moments, I saw the gentleman in him come out. Oh, he hid it quite well at times, but it was always there, even if it was buried.

He took me a way that I didn't recognize, but I didn't pay attention enough to really care. He carried a torch in his hand, though I knew it was mainly for my benefit. He could see nearly as well in the dark as I could in the light.

Somehow, we ended up outside of the Rue Scribe entrance. There was a brougham waiting for us there, yet it had no driver. I looked toward Erik questioningly, and he only helped me into the cab lightly, then closed the door on me. Erik could be quite a smart man, yet for once I found myself questioning him. Why would he risk being seen when he was wanted by so many people?

The answer wasn't hard to find. He did it for me – he would have done anything for me, you know. Anything I ask of him… except to let me go. Sometimes, late at night, I wondered why he chose me. He could have chosen anyone, why did he pick me? There had to be some other desperate girl out there, someone just as easy to fool, someone who wouldn't be missed so much. Someone who didn't have a Raoul. Why me? I think at some point everyone asks themselves that same question… but for some reason, I knew that I would never know the answer. And it seemed as though sometimes, that was the only thing that kept me sane in the long hours of darkness and solitude.

I was so lost in my own thoughts that I hadn't noticed the brougham begin its journey, but I felt the jolt when we finally stopped. I waited with anticipation, wondering where Erik may be taken me… he must have had some sort of surprise, or he wouldn't have acted so strangely when asking me to go. Then again, what really classified strange behavior for Erik?

He opened the door and offered me his hand, helping me down from the high steps. My heart nearly stopped when I saw where we were.

"Erik?" I looked up at him, too afraid to believe it to be true.

It almost seemed as if he could read my mind, for he simply looked down with a slight smirk, saying lightly, "One hour, my child." Then he took on a different air completely, a frightening temper that I had nearly forgotten of him. "Do not forget, Christine, that I will know everything that goes on. I will hear all that is said."

"Oh, Erik," I said quietly. "Thank you, so much. How may I ever repay you this?"

"Prove yourself trustworthy, my dear. As Erik said, if Christine loves him, he shall be as gentle as a lamb; and she could do anything with him she may please."

I placed a small kiss on his masked check, saying quietly, "Thank you so. You do not know what this means to me."

He smiled and pushed me slightly towards the door to Mamma Valerius' house. I decided not to turn back, and instead knocked on the door. Her maid, a poor and haggard old woman, answered the door, and regarded me with a strange look, almost as though she didn't recognize me. Then a smile spread across her face.

"Christine!" She cried, grasping my arm. "Madam Valerius will be so pleased to see you! You know, she worries dearly for you. And as I can see from your poor condition, she may have need to."

I let the lonely woman chatter as long as she wished as she led me down to the bedchamber, where the woman closest to my mother rested.

When I finally entered, alone, the first thing I noticed was that it was darker than I had remembered. The second was the poor condition of the woman upon the bed. Suddenly, I realized why Erik had brought me. This would be the last time I would see her – she was so near death. Barely hanging on, by the looks of it. Perhaps waiting for me to say goodbye. No, I place far too much worth on myself…

I approached slowly, each step dragged out as if it would be the last I took. Everything was falling apart, falling away. Everything I had known of the world was slowly dying and fading away, leaving me behind. Why must they always leave me behind? Mamma, Papa, Raoul,… everyone I had held dear slipping through my grasp like water.

I had to pull myself from my own silent revelry, lest I fall apart there. No, I needed this. Erik had been so thoughtful… he full well could have kept me from saying goodbye. I knew he would hold no remorse for it, perhaps never even tell me. He could have taken me completely away. I would have to thank him later.

When I was finally to the bedside, I took her poor withered hand and whispered, "Mamma?"

"Christine, dear child, is it truly you?" her surprise was evident. The poor old woman smiled, bringing one hand up and caressing my check as she had when I was a little girl. I managed to smile at her.

"Mamma, how have you been?" I could do it, I could hold on until this was over… my time was so short, there wasn't enough to waste on tears.

"Christine, dear child, I fear I do not have much time left… your angel, he has returned you?" her eyes still held the glimmer. She had believed the story of my angel, even after Raoul had tried to disprove it.

"No, no Mamma… only allowed me to visit you."

"Christine, is he kind? Tell me of your angel." Somehow, I had known she would ask this. The one question I was afraid to answer… I knew Erik was listening from somewhere. If I answered wrong, I had no doubt he would cut my goodbye short.

"Yes, he is Mamma… he is kind and loving. The thing of dreams really." I tried to sound as convincing as I could, and I suppose I succeeded, for she smiled and closed her eyes.

"He has taken you away, child?"

"Yes, Mamma. He has taken me with him. His world is so amazing, you know. Endless music and things beyond your imagination," this at least wasn't a lie.

"Will he care for you, my dear Christine, when I am gone?" She opened her eyes and I was surprised at the brightness in them, the sparkle.

"Yes. He will Mamma, I don't doubt it for a minute. He always has, you know." She smiled again.

"Dear Christine, love him. You are blessed, child. It's not every day a young woman gets an angel to herself." I smiled softly. I so wished I could tell her the truth… the last time I saw her, and I had to lie about everything. But maybe I didn't.

"He frightens me."

"Of course he does. How could such a majestic being not? Sent from God to bless you." I nearly began crying there.

"Mamma, he has such a temper. Sometimes I wonder that he will hurt me… yet then there he is, begging to be forgiven. When he cries, Mamma, it is the most horrible thing in the world… Mamma, I have to tell you the truth. He is a man, not an angel." I hadn't meant to say so much, but supposed it wouldn't do any harm.

"Christine, child, I know. I have known for a long while now."

"Why me, Mamma? Why did he chose me?" I could hear the desperation in my own voice.

"Child, your heart is pure. You see, he needs someone pure. He is an angel of sorts… a fallen angel. But you, Christine, you are an angel as well, sent to help him find forgiveness. You were sent to save him." I think at that moment, something inside of me broke. What exactly it was, I am not sure.

"I'm not strong enough."

"But you are, or he would not have chosen you. God has a plan for you, Christine. Look to him to help you." Never had I felt so much conviction.

"Mamma, I need you. You can't leave me yet…" I felt as though I were six years old again, at my father's bedside. I had begged the same of him, yet it had done nothing. He still left me to be with God. Maybe he was with my real Mamma now. I hoped he was happy where he was, just as I hoped Mamma would be happy where she went.

She put her hand to my chest, over my heart, and said quietly, "I will always be here. And I will always be watching over you, just as I am sure your father is right now."

"Mamma, I love you."

"I love you too, child. This is goodbye, for now. I will see you again. Don't keep your angel waiting, child. Show him all the things he deserves dear."

I embraced the woman tightly, holding on as long as I could. I was afraid if I let go, she would disappear right before my eyes. When she finally released me, I pressed a kiss to her check and managed to stagger out of the room.

I made it out of the house before I finally broke down, falling on the stone steps in a heap of tears. I sobbed harder than I had in a very long time. I was finding crying to be so draining… too much was happening all at once. Too much to sort through. I knew I would fall into pieces, mind and all, if I didn't make peace with it all soon. I needed to embrace my fate, for that's what it was. I would do it for Mamma… I had to be strong for her.

I don't know how long I was there before he came to me. It couldn't have been too long, perhaps mere moments. I knew he was waiting for me. He sat beside me and pulled me into his embrace, pulling off his own cloak to wrap around my body, and then rocked me back and forth as he hummed a melody. He stroked my hair as you would to comfort a child. And I found it strangely welcomed. I let each tear fall, suddenly not caring if he saw me at my weakest. He had seen it before… but I had been a little girl.

I buried my head in his chest, letting my tears soak through his shirt. He didn't seem to mind, only tightening his hold on me. He didn't say a word and just held me for the longest time. I knew I was being loud, but I didn't care. I felt myself shuddering from the cold and physical demands of weeping. I had never realized how much it took out of you.

He hummed even as he lifted me to carry me to the brougham. I could feel the vibrations of his chest, and it was strangely soothing to me. I hiccupped three times, then the tears finally subsided. At least, for the moment.

The trip back down had been short. He hadn't let my feet touch the ground, carrying me the whole way as I clung to him as if he were the only thing holding me back from floating away into the air. No, there were no more tears. I don't think I had any left.

I let go of him only when he put me on my bed. He put his masked check to my hand, then looked deep into my eyes.

"Christine, I'm so sorry… I shouldn't have… I should have thought-"  
"No, Erik." I could hear my voice shaking. "Thank you. I would have never been able to say goodbye… I would have never known."

"I… I promise I will never let anyone hurt you… I'll take care of you, Christine. I will." I heard the vows in his voice, the determination. I think that is the first time I saw him. I mean truly saw him. He was nothing more than a child at heart, really. Never given the chance to grow up. He didn't always understand things, because somewhere deep down, he didn't want to. It was amazing to think of this murderous, scheming man in such a way, but he truly did retain a child-like innocence. All the things he had done – well, I don't think he really understood that it was wrong. Then again, I may only be making excuses for him as I always seemed to.

"Christine, I love you." There was such contentment in his voice.

"I know."

"Christine, I love you. And I know you can't say it back, but I don't care… I will say it as long as you allow me to. Perhaps – maybe one day you can say it back and truly mean it. But for now… for now it doesn't matter, my dear." His poor eyes held a torture about them that I'm not even sure I understand. "Just… tell me one thing," he paused for a moment as I nodded. "Do you care for me? Even a little?"

"My poor, unhappy Erik!" I said. "I… I do care for you. But Erik, you frighten me so."

He put his hand to my check softly, touching me feather-like. "Erik is sorry. He is trying, Christine, he is trying. And for you, he will never stop trying. He will make you happy."

I could hear the sadness in his voice. It was nearly more unbearable than when he cried. It almost seemed as if his voice was weeping. Such a powerful voice was bound to make me feel something. "Erik, I just need time. I… I'm not unhappy. Truly, I'm not…"

I could sense the slight smile that he gave. "Christine must be tired."

He rose to his feet to leave me, and I called him back. "Sing for me?"

He came back quickly, as if he had expected it. And I found that for once, I wasn't cursing myself.

This was the second time I feel asleep in my angel's embrace.

**A/N: Grrr, I just can't get out of the fluff! XD**

**I hope you enjoyed this chapter… I enjoyed writing it. It took a while for my muse to find me, but it came. I've decided to take Obscure Bird's advice, and just try to let it flow. Take it slow.**

**Do not despair, though, I assure you that it will eventually all come together.**

**If you have a couple moments, could you do me a favor, and click the little blue letters on the bottom of the page to leave me a review? I'll love you forever (:**

**Okay, enough sucking up now. Look forward to more coming soon!**

**Queen of Hearts**


	5. Chapter 5

I woke to find myself utterly alone once again. I felt a slight cold draft across my face and quickly turned away, huddling into the blankets for warmth. And that was when I heard the low whispers. Well, I suppose more like shouts turned to whispers from the distance.

There were two voices, one I recognized as Erik's, and another I didn't recognize. It was distinctly male, and had a very strange and unrecognizable accent.

I rose and shivered at the drafts, putting my arms around myself in a pathetic attempt to be warm. No, I knew by now the only way to be warm down here was to be dressed. So that's exactly what I did – dressed myself, even pulling a traveling cloak around myself to get rid of the seemingly extra-chill.

While I was doing this, I also noticed that the voices seemed to be growing louder… I could hear Erik's anger, even though I couldn't really hear what exactly was being said. It was really grating at my curiosity, and making me want to fallow the sound. So I did… I figured the worst that could happen was that Erik would be angry with me, and the most that I had ever known to happen was to be left to myself for a few days.

My ears brought me to stand at the edge of the lake. They were obviously on the other side, because I could hear their words echoing in the cavern's walls. They echoed together, creating a wild jumble of words that I had to listen to very closely to make out.

"Where is she Erik? I thought I told you, no more murd-"

"And Erik thought he told you to stay away from his home! Erik assures you that Christine is quite well."

"Do you think the boy won't be looking for her, Erik?" After this question, there was a silence. "Do you realize what you did?"

"Christine… Christine wishes to be here." I could hear the bit of fear in his voice… or perhaps it was more of a guilty sound.

"No, Erik, no. She is here to save him."

"Daroga, I swear to God if you do not leave us in peace… Do not come near this place again, or Erik will not have pity on you. Not a fourth time."

"Just let me see her, Erik. Let me be sure she is alive and well."

There was a very long silence, in which I imagine they were staring at each other. I know that there was a battle with Erik, at least. I was surprised when I heard him say, "Fine, then."

Within a few moments I heard the splashing of water as the boat came toward the shore. I ran as fast as I could, settling myself in the library, trying to calm myself – no use in looking suspicious. I could at least hope I hadn't been caught.

I heard a few footsteps before he called my name. "Christine, where are you, my love?" I shuddered slightly. I don't know that I will ever be used to hearing myself called in such ways by him.

I rose and smoothed my hair and dress, trying to get rid of the few wrinkles, then emerged from the library, finally daring to show myself. I was a good actress, but I knew that I would never fool Erik.

I came to find him standing with another man who had dark skin and kind brown eyes. He smiled gently at me, and was the first to speak. "Hello, Christine. How are you?"

It took me a moment to recognize him, but I realized it very fast. He was the man who had been in the torture chamber with Raoul. Raoul… did this mean he knew where he was?

"Christine," Erik's voice broke through my thoughts. "I believe the Daroga here asked you a question. Now answer him."

Though it was rude, it was said kindly and calmly, as though he were reprimanding a small child for their manners. "I… I am well, thank you, Monsieur." I looked questioningly toward Erik, but found no answers as his face was as blank as any, his arms crossed angrily over his chest.

"Very well, Christine. I expect you to speak honestly to me, do you understand?" I nodded slightly, looking at the kind man. "Do you wish to return, or are you here of your own will?"

"Daroga, I –"

"Erik, let Christine answer. I asked her, not you."

I looked away from Erik, and toward this strange man. "I am here of my will." I tried to sound as sure as I could.

"Are you positive this is what you want, child?" I looked at Erik only to see him looking away now, toward the wall.

"Yes. I made my choice a while ago and… and I think I made the right one. And if not… if not then it was a decision that is made already anyway."

When I said this, Erik looked at me in wonder. I could nearly feel this new and strange emotion coming off of him.

"Are you quite certain, Christine, that this is where you choose to be for the rest of your life? It's not too late… you could come back with me now."

I looked at him blankly. Such a decision was not one to be made on a split-second moment. I had to weigh my options quickly… what was up there for me? Raoul… one thing I really did want. Yet up there was also pain, judgment… there would be questions, so many questions. And I wasn't even sure that Raoul would want me anymore… what was I to him? My status was far below that of his, and I would only bring shame to him. Oh, I had no doubt of his love, but I knew that he would eventually come to resent me for the things I brought upon him. No, we belonged in two very different worlds.

But, then, what was down here for me? There was Erik, a man who would love me for everyday that passed, loved me deeper than I think I will ever understand. There was music and passion, magic. - things that in the world above would be dead to me. Sure, it was frightening down here, but would it be any less so up above? No, I can't say that I loved Erik in return, not yet at least, but I had no doubt that I could eventually come to it. I was fond of him… besides, I wasn't really sure how to live without him. As much as I would like to say that I could, I don't think I would survive without him…

"I… I am sure." He only looked at me strangely, then to Erik, who only seemed to be looking at me.

"Erik, could I… talk to you?" He pulled his eyes from me and nodded to the strange man, and they left together. I wasn't sure where they went, but I know when Erik came back, he was alone.

They were gone a while, and I went back to the library, settling myself on the small couch. What had I done? I truly believed that was my last chance… did I truly think that this was where I belonged? I made my way back to my room and settled in front of my vanity, staring at my own reflection in the mirror. My hand traced the dark spots under my eyes and the slowly yellowing skin. I forced myself to stare at what I was doing to myself.

I heard a slight knock on the door, and looked up to see Erik standing in the doorway, looking at me calmly. I gave him a weak smile.

"You can come in," I said quietly, pulling my eyes from him to look into the mirror again.

"Christine," he knelt beside me and took my hands in his, forcing me to look at him. He was nearly eye-level with me now. "Christine," he repeated my name quietly. He released one of my hands to touch my face, then looked me straight in the eyes and said, "You are so beautiful."

I looked away and at my small brush on the table. Though he said it, I didn't see it. Here I was, wasting away and turning yellow, for God's sake, and he was telling me I was beautiful!

"Christine, look at me," I found myself forced to fallow the command as his hand turned my face to look at him. "Did you mean what you said? Are you really sure this is what you want?"

I looked at him for a moment and nearly felt the desperation coming off his body in waves. He could hide it all he wanted, but it was there. I had a revelation, an epiphany of sorts, that told me he would die if I left. What else did he really have to live for? His music and me… perhaps I place too much importance on myself, but that is exactly what I felt in the moment.

"Yes Erik. I did mean it, or I would not have said it." I tried to sound as sure as I could again, but I heard my own voice break slightly. He seemed to not notice.

He knelt even lower, bringing the hem of my skirt to his mouth to kiss it, then kissed my feet again. I shuddered as I remembered that terrible night and pulled my feet away from him. "Erik, please! You do not have to do that…"

He looked up at me. "Erik is sorry, Christine. He only wants you to know that you are the most incredible being to walk the Earth… You have turned his Hell into a Heaven! You are too kind to him."

I felt a soft wave of sadness, and put my hand under his chin, forcing his eyes to mine. "Erik, oh, Erik, after life in so much darkness, you deserve at least a little happiness."

"No, no, Erik deserves nothing…" he looked away from me. "Erik deserves pain… Erik deserved that. Erik deserved his horrid past… Erik deserves much worse."

I pulled him to his feet – which was a difficult task, seeing that he was so much taller than I – and pulled his body against mine in an awkward hug. This time, his arms went around me as well. I felt him tremble against me uncontrollably. I held him for a long while, letting him calm. I pulled back slightly to look him in the eyes, but didn't remove myself completely from him.

"You didn't deserve any of it, Erik."

"Erik is a bad man, Christine. Erik is a monster." It was said with no sadness, almost as though he were only rattling off random facts such as the ABC's.

"No, Erik, you are simply a man. A man that was never taught better…" he looked at me again. "Erik, you've taught me so much… you've given me so much… and now it's my turn to repay you."

He just continued to stare at me. "I – well, I want to repay you." He pulled slightly away, but I pulled him back, resting my head on his chest and letting out a slight sigh. His hand once again went to my hair.

"Child, you must be a miracle. Erik must have done something right in his miserable life to get you."

I sighed, then had a sudden idea. I pulled back, and looked innocently at Erik. I picked the brush up off of the vanity, and offered it to him. "Could you… brush my hair? It's grown so long, I can barley reach." It wasn't a lie, but it wasn't the only reason. I was curious… would it feel different? Besides, it would probably make him smile.

He took the brush awkwardly in his slender hand, and looked at me.

"Please?" I sat down and let my hair fall down my back. I felt him touch my hair tenderly, then felt the brush at my scalp. He worked it as gently as I could, and when he came to a knot, he immediately stopped. When I looked at him, I saw the fear in his eyes. He was afraid to hurt me. "Go ahead, it's okay," I coaxed him gently. He pulled the brush through quickly. He was so gentle, so tender… thinking back to the first day I saw him, I would never have expected the man before me. My judgments had been wrong.

Sure, he was frightening. He was frightening in more than one sense… physically and mentally, really. I can't lie and say that I ever did get used to his horrible visage, but I did eventually accept that he wouldn't be Erik without it. But he was so kind, so gentle. He could make me laugh and smile, even when I was angry with him.

I could feel his hands trembling on the brush. I took the brush when he was finished, and offered him a light smile. "Thank you."

"It… thank you," he replied in fascination. "Thank you for everything."

I took his face in my hands, and pulled the mask off once again, his eyes watching me in child-like awe. "Erik, I don't want you to wear your mask anymore," I said as I bit my bottom lip. As horrible as it was, the mask couldn't have been helping any. There were places that the little normal skin he had was rubbed red and raw. Besides, he needed to let his face breathe at least on occasion, and it was all the better to see it all the time instead of being completely surprised. No, the surprise may cause me to scream at him, and that was one thing I never wanted to do again.

"You do not?" He seemed to stutter. I only shook my head and placed the mask aside.

"It has to be painful… besides, it is only making matters worse, rubbing against your skin all the time… it is obviously rubbing your face raw," I let my fingers touch the swelled flesh lightly.

His eyes closed and he groaned quietly. I pulled back quickly.

"Does that hurt?" I whispered. The last thing I wanted to do now was hurt him.

He shook his head. "Christine, you haven't any idea what it feels like… to have someone… touch me… No one else has ever touched my face, Christine. No one but Erik has ever touched his face before."

I let my hands touch his face again, causing him to close his eyes. I could feel him trembling yet again under my fingers. I was being as gentle as I could, touching lighter on the raw parts. I don't know what it was that came over me, but I ended up kissing his eyelids lightly, then his checks, his forehead, chin, his whole face as he trembled harder and harder at each moment, groaning quietly. When I finally claimed his lips, he pulled us both up, roughly pulling me against him. One of his hands twisted in my hair, the other pushing on the small of my back.

He had me pressed flush against him, yet continued to tighten his grip on me. And the strangest part was that I found no objection to it. My body was reacting in strange ways, frightening yet thrilling things I hadn't felt in myself before. He pulled away, and there was a wild look about him.

"Christine… Christine… lock your door… do not let me in to-night, dear. Please, please… no matter what I say… don't let me in…" his voice was strained, but he left as quickly as he could, slamming the door. I quickly locked it behind him.

My heart was fluttering wildly inside my ribcage, and I silently thanked God that he had sent himself away. I didn't know exactly what would have happened, but I knew that it wouldn't have been anything good.

Within moments, I could hear the pounding of the organ once again.

**A/N: Thank you all for your wonderful reviews! I do hope you enjoy this chapter… I was at a slight loss, but by the end I found a lot of inspiration.**

**I hope you all know how much you are helping me move forward with this story… I think I would have given up already if it wasn't for your encouragement. Thank you all so much!**

**Oh, and if anyone is interested, I am working on a research paper on the "Real" story of the Phantom of the Opera. I'll post it if I ever finish, but any info or help will be much appreciated! Well, until next time, au revoir,**

**Your faithful and obedient writer,**

**Queen of Hearts**


	6. Chapter 6

I don't remember getting any sleep that night. No, I was quite uneasy. A door was no match for Erik, nor was the lock. Multiple times he could be heard passing the door, even daring to try the handle a few times.

I remember pulling the sheets to my chin, as though if I disappeared in their welcoming warmth, no harm would ever befall me. What a beautiful lie that was.

I don't know when it was that I finally grew weary of being in that room. It was as if the walls were closing around me, reminding me of my voluntary prison. It had to have been hours, and I hadn't heard any sound of Erik for a long while, so I ventured out into the darkened hallways.

The candle light flickered off the walls as it had before. It was obvious that he was in his room again. I was slightly afraid to approach him, and instead ventured through the rest of the house. But I was still a child deep down, and was frightened of the strange shadows, and so I went toward the candle-light. It was strange, as only a few days ago I would have taken the shadows over Erik, but everything was changed around now – now it was he that seemed to be my protector… even when there was nothing to protect me from.

I walked slowly, especially after I realized that his door was open. When I poked my head around the corner, I was surprised to find him at the organ. Only he wasn't playing – he was instead resting his elbows on the keyboard, body hunched over uncomfortably into his hands. His shoulders rose and fell steadily. He was peacefully asleep. I found the sight slightly endearing for reasons unbeknown to myself.

However, by the look of it, he would be in quite a bit of pain if I allowed him to sleep in that position. So I approached him slowly. He was as silent in his peaceful sleep as he was in his waking hours. When I was close enough, I reached out a hand and grasped his shoulder. When there was no reaction, and I decided shaking him awake probably wasn't the kindest way, I stooped closer to him and put my mouth against his ear.

"Erik, you need to wake up now," I whispered kindly. He only groaned slightly in response and shifted. Taking a deep breath, I moved my mouth down to the tender spot just under his ear and nipped gently at it.

His eyes flicked open, startled. "Christine?"

I smiled and pulled back to look him in the… eyes. And I was fully surprised to see them burning with anger. My smile faded, and I pulled myself away from him quickly, toppling to the cold floor.

"Erik thought he told you to stay in your room for the night?" He stood and towered above me, his mask less face contorted in rage.

"I-I couldn't stand to be alone anymore," was my weak excuse.

"Christine does not think logically, does she? Does Christine wish to know _why_ Erik told her to stay in her room? Hmm? Erik does know how inquisitive you women are," he was close to me now, kneeling above me. His face changed, softened. But it wasn't a kind change… it frightened me, the look one of something I didn't understand.

He pulled me to my feet, ignoring my protests and my shout of pain as his fingers dug into my arms. He looked at me, a wicked smile spreading across his face. "Christine must learn to listen to Erik."

I felt an involuntary shudder go through me, but he seemed to be ignoring it. He pinned me to the wall with his body, pressing himself flush against me. His lips were moving against mine, but I felt nothing of the passion that had been there before. Only pain.

He made a trail with his lips down to my shoulder, where he gently bit me. His hands caressed my body through my lairs of clothing, which suddenly seemed to number too few. Suddenly, he lifted me to my feet and carried me from the room, ignoring my protests and silencing them with a rough kiss. My fear only heightened as he deposited me atop my own bed, pinning me down to the mattress after removing his jacket.

His hands continued to roam my body, his lips caressing me through the thin material of my clothing. He removed my thin nightgown and deposited it on the floor, then stopped, eyes widening as he saw my figure through the thin chemise. I began to shudder, shivering violently under his strange gaze. My lips felt raw.

He stumbled backward, his look of lust turning to one of repulsion. "Please don't," I whispered brokenly. He had released me, so I made good use of the moments by meandering myself under the sheets, covering myself but still shaking violently of fear.

"Christine…" it sounded as though he had only just realized what had been happening. He brought his hand to my face, but I quickly jerked away. His eyes clouded with pain. "Forgive Erik, Christine… Oh, how dare he touch sweet Christine!"

He pulled away even further, moving off the bed and moving backward to the wall. He twisted his hands together roughly in front of him, moaning with what seemed as though it were pain. "Christine!" he cried out my name over and over, begging forgiveness. He fell to his knees again, continuing with his strange chant.

I couldn't bring myself to stand, to expose myself to him again. I shivered still, overwhelmed by the cold. Shock overtook me as I allowed my mind to realize fully what he would have done had he not stopped himself. If I had just waited longer, it wouldn't have happened. I wrapped my arms around myself and suddenly found myself wishing that I was somewhere else, anywhere else.

Erik looked at me. "Christine… I didn't mean to…"

I could see the horror of his own actions, yet I couldn't help but be angry. "You promised. You promised you would never hurt me!" I felt tears well in my eyes again, but pushed them back.

His head sank down as he gazed at the floor in guilt. "You promised… does that mean nothing to you?"

He only looked at me helplessly. He looked so small. I sighed slightly. "Will you at least hand me my nightgown?" he moved slowly. Everything seemed slowed down, and when he handed me the nightgown, I couldn't help but pity him for the look he gave me – but such an act as his would not be forgotten so easily. I pulled the nightgown on quickly, and couldn't help but whisper, "I'm cold."

He nodded slightly. "I will fetch you another blanket."

He was gone only a moment, in which I curled around myself, into a ball, and prayed. I was still whispering the words when he entered. "…papa, why? You promised the Angel of Music to me… is this really him? Papa, why do you let these things happen to me? Why did you have to go… I need you."

It took a moment to register his presence, and I didn't until I felt his arm touch me. I started, but relaxed when I realized that he was only covering me with the extra blankets he had brought. He was silent, but it wasn't hard to realize the remorse he felt. I caught his hand as he was pulling away, and he looked at me carefully.

"Erik… why?" he sighed, and sat in the soft arm-chair beside the bed, refusing to release my hand. He held it tightly in his own.

"What do you wish for me to tell you, Christine? That it was okay… that I had a true reason?" he looked sadly into my eyes, then down at our interlocked hands. He traced mine with his thumb, then looked up at my face again. "I had no reason. I have no redeeming purpose."

There was silence. "I… I would never hurt you, Christine. Not intentionally… it was a moment of weakness, a moment of thoughtlessness."

I continued to stare at him, even as he looked down again and sighed. "I'm not used to this… it used to be only myself I had to care for. But now I have you and… it will not happen again, my dear. Erik will not let it." At this last bit he looked me straight in the face, shining all the honesty through those eyes that he could.

I bit my bottom lip lightly. I didn't know how to respond to his words. I still found it nearly impossible to doubt him; even though it was twice he had made the same promise and broke it. He continued to stare at me expectantly. "What-what can I say, Erik?"

"Tell me you believe me," he sounded desperate, not really commanding but rather hoping.

"It is hard to believe someone who has been lying from the beginning." It may sound cruel, but it was true. From day one he had lied to me, making me believe him to be something and someone he was not.

His grip tightened on my hand. "It was the only way," he sounded convicted, desperate, begging for understanding. He looked into my eyes again. "If I had come to you as a suitor, face to face, you would honestly say I would have the same chance as any other man?"

I looked away. As much as I would like to deny it, he had a very valid point. I wouldn't have given him the time of day, wouldn't have even looked upon him with a smile.

"I thought as much," he sighed out. "As you see, I had no choice from that matter… if I could have, I would never have lied to you. I would give anything to be like everyone else."

"Oh, Erik," I said sadly. Somehow, no matter what he did, I always convinced myself to forgive him. Convinced myself he wasn't at fault. He had a hold over me – I could no longer deny it. It was rather obvious.

"Christine…" he said quietly. He knew. He always knew. He knew that he was forgiven, knew that I would hold him to no fault. He had a sick hold over me, and he knew. He used it to his advantage. Yet I still couldn't bring myself to hate him. "I love you dear, sweet Christine."

I bit my lip and nodded, still unable to return the words. Perhaps even more unable now. "I do," he vowed. "It shall never happen again… Erik will never touch Christine again, if she pleases."

I sighed and enclosed his hand with both of mine. "That is not what I want, Erik. I'm just… not ready. Especially not like that." 'Maybe one day,' I added in my mind.

He nodded. "Christine is too good to her Erik… far too good to him."

"Erik?" he looked at me with those golden, glowing globes. "I'm very tired." He nodded again.

"Erik will leave if Christine wishes," it was said quietly. I could tell it wasn't what he wanted, but I knew he would if I asked it of him.

"No… only, Erik?"

"Hmm?"

"Promise me… promise me that nothing will happen tonight… promise that you will protect me…"

"Oh, Christine, I promise you. Nothing will ever happen like that again."

"Please… hold me?" somehow I knew that it would all end this way… I would always forgive him; always allow him to come back. He crawled under the covers with me, putting his arms protectively around me. "Promise me you won't leave me." I was suddenly overtaken with a horrible fear that I would once again wake alone.

"I promise, Christine." I turned in his arms, and buried my face into his chest.

Only when I was sure he couldn't see did I allow the tears to fall.

**A/N: Yay! I'm finally free from finals (:**

**Updates should come more often now… I was just swamped. **

**Anyway… I decided to take a risk with this chapter, but I'm pleased with it. So I'm curious what you all think of it.**

**Trust me, I didn't expect it at all. That was not what I was planning when I opened up the word document… it just kinda happened. But as I said, I'm happy with it.**

**So… please, pretty, pretty please, hit the little blue letters at the bottom of the page and let me know what you think?**

**Your faithful writer,**

**Queen of Hearts**


	7. Chapter 7

When I finally awoke, I was overtaken with fear as I tried to move and couldn't. But as I tried to pull away, I heard a tired sigh and the arms restricting me pulled me closer. "Christine…" his voice mumbled into my ear. I shuddered slightly as I remembered what had happened, but smiled as I realized he held true to his promise.

"Erik." I replied quietly, barely whispering for fear of… well, what exactly I feared I wasn't sure.

"Good morning," he whispered in return. I twisted in his arms to face him, and watched as a tired smile spread across his face.

"Good morning," I replied, letting him glimpse a sad smile of my own. One of his hands released my waist, and came up to lightly caress my face, while the other remained on the small of my back, pulling me close to him. It was almost as though he feared letting go of me.

We lay like that for a long time, quiet and just holding each other - leaving each to our own thoughts. After a while he closed his eyes and breathed in the scent of my hair. "Christine is such a good girl," he said quietly, fisting my hair and tightening his hold possessively. "Such a good girl."

I shuddered slightly at his words, but pushed them out of my mind as I found I couldn't put meaning behind them. Instead, I simply smiled at him. I let him hold me for a long time. It was strange, but I found myself thinking of how good it felt to simply be held close to him – to wake up to him. I allowed him to touch me, but his hands didn't roam past my face, except to hold me tightly around the waist. Finding I didn't mind it much, I relaxed into his arms.

"Christine?" I looked at him expectantly. "I have a surprise for you… later today."

I found myself smiling childishly, and he let his fingers brush my cheek lightly again, then he released me. I felt suddenly very cold, but tried not to let it affect me, suppressing the shiver. He sighed slightly. "Come along, my dear. You must be starving."

He rose and took my hand in his, leading me to the kitchen.

The remainder of the day, I was mainly left to my own devices. He left me in the library for hours while he went to his room, closing the door and composing.

Even with only a few hours, I could hardly stand the solitude. I found myself once again pitying Erik. How could he spend his whole life like this, alone? I was already growing bored with myself, feeling half-driven out of my mind. It was no wonder he knew so much – there was nothing much to do. He must have had all the time in the world to master his many trades.

When he finally came to me, I raised, eager for his attention and company. I grasped onto his arm and began to babble senselessly about everything and nothing, to which he only chuckled slightly. I was glad to find that he was in good humor. He was so much more tolerable, even enjoyable, to be around. I continued to prattle until he put a gentle finger to my lips, bidding me to silence myself.

"I told you I had a surprise for you, child." I looked at him eagerly, trying not to betray the slight fear I felt. "Go, change. Dress warmly, dear. I wouldn't like for you to catch cold."

I don't know that I ever changed faster in my life, donning my heaviest dress and traveling cloak, being sure to check myself in the mirror to be sure I looked presentable. When I returned to him he inspected me closely, then gave a short nod of approval.

"Come along," he said quietly, offering his arm to me again. I took it quickly – my mind began to race. What could he be planning?

He settled me in the gondola and raised the long pole in his hand, gently navigating us through the lake. We hardly ever used this way, and I found my mind again trying to put reason to his actions. I let my head fall back to lean against his legs, feeling the gentle movements of his muscles.

When we finally reached the other side, he offered his hand to me again and helped me from the bottom of the boat. He only turned, keeping my hand enclosed in his, and leading me through the twisting, confusing hallways. I felt a slight panic go through me as I considered how I could get lost, but felt it fade as Erik squeezed my hand lightly.

He led me even further into the maze, never turning to look at me, but giving my hand inconsistent little squeezes. I found a strange comfort from it, and found myself returning them lightly. I could almost feel the amusement he felt.

I found myself in a strange moment of déjà vu as we reached the same strange tunnel as that first night, the same horse awaiting us. Erik lifted me onto the horses back, and pulled himself up behind me. I felt his movement as he raised my hood to cover my face, then mimicked the action with his own.

His arms were around me soon, his lithe body pressed against mine closely. We were soon outside of the opera, as if by magic, and riding through random paths, lit by the soft light of a sunset, some of which I recognized and others I did not. I found myself relaxing against Erik, allowing my body to slump against his chest. He tensed at first, but then relaxed as well.

He slowed the horse to a tender trot and whispered into my ear, "Do not worry, my dear, we are quite close now." I smiled and allowed my eyes to close, savoring the warmth of the sun upon my face. I drank in the sensation, not knowing how long it would be before I felt it again. I felt the low chuckle that he gave, and felt myself smile even more.

All too soon, the movement stopped and I felt him slide away from me. When I opened my eyes, I couldn't help but gasp. He only chuckled again, and helped me slide from the horse's back. "Erik… how did you…" I never finished my question, though, as he silenced it with a gentle kiss after pushing my hood back gently.

"Never you mind," he said quietly. "I have my own ways." He really could be quite mysterious when he wished.

The light filtered through the throng of trees that surrounded us, casting a beautiful light upon the blanket that lay on the ground. In the center of it was a small basket. I couldn't help but wonder when he had gotten the time to do all of this – I couldn't remember him leaving me – but then again, Erik was a many-talented man. I had no doubt of his strange abilities.

He silently took my hand again and led me to the blanket, making sure I was settled and comfortable before taking his own place across from me. He opened the basket and began removing the small plates and silver, setting our places. He set the food out before us both. It really was quite a magnificent spread, especially to have all been packed in such a small basket.

I smiled as I took my own small portions of the foods, feeling slightly guilty that I didn't have more of an appetite. He had gone to all of this trouble, all just for me, yet I savored the sun above it all. Whether intentionally or unintentionally, Erik allowing me to bask in the sun was the greatest gift he had given me.

He took small amounts, but barely touched any of it. I ate politely, wishing instead that I could be up, moving about, dancing, running, anything. I hadn't realized until now how deprived I had been of this fresh, clean air.

When I had finally finished the menial task of eating, I allowed myself to relax against the ground, savoring the feeling of the ticklish grass.

"Christine," Erik said, almost sensing my thoughts. "Would you like to join me for a walk?"

I rose quickly, nodding vigorously. I took his arm as he led me in circles, in and out of the trees. I would have been hopelessly lost had it not been for Erik guiding me.

"Thank you, Erik," I finally said, breaking the comfortable silence between us.

He smiled slightly. "Christine, I only wish for your happiness. You needn't thank me, for it is rather selfish of me."

"How so?"

"I keep you all to myself, spoiling myself with your smiles… I had never thought I would ever make a woman smile," I looked to him, allotting him another small smile. I would do anything to encourage him to continue. Somehow, when he spoke freely, I found it so much easier to understand him, why he did the things he did.

He stopped and turned to me. His gloved hand came up and lightly touched my lips. He rubbed his thumb lightly over them, then finally returned my smile. "I never thought I myself would smile… not happily at least." He abruptly turned from me and continued on. His free hand grasped a small flower off of the branch of a tree.

He stopped again, turning to me and tucking the flower behind my ear, smiling again. "Just what I thought."

"And what is that?" I asked playfully, pouting slightly.

"Purple is your color," was his gentle response. I was almost shocked at his easy attitude. "Though I'm sure any color would suit you."

We continued on. After a few moments, Erik began to hum a light tune. He led me around in a circle and we were soon back to the blanket where we had started. Darkness was beginning to settle around us, and I felt a bit of unease grow within me. I had always been weary of the dark.

Darkness falls much faster than one expects, and I was soon left with nothing but the light of Erik's yellow eyes to see by. I felt childish, but I suddenly wished to be back below the opera, in the safety of the yellow light of the candles. Erik didn't seem to share my wishes. He settled on the blanket once again, stretching out on his back, hands cupped behind his head as he stared up at the sky.

I heard my own surprised shriek when he closed his eyes, extinguishing my only light source. He soon opened his eyes and looked at me questioningly.

I stood, dumb with my own childishness, and finally admitted allowed, "I'm afraid of the dark."

He chuckled slightly for a moment while I stared at him in embarrassment. "The dark is nothing to be afraid of, silly Christine. Come," he gently patted the blanket beside him, and I sat, still slightly uneasy. He sat up and pointed toward the sky. "See? It's not all dark." He pointed at the twinkling stars above us.

"I-I don't know," I said quietly, stumbling for words now.

"Christine, beauty resides in the dark just as much as in the light. You have nothing more to fear from either," he pulled me close to him, managing to get me to relax. "You see that star?" he pointed out to the brightest one I could see. "That's called the northern star. They say it will lead you home no matter where you are… if you fallow it."

I smiled and relaxed against him. I found us to be slowly slipping toward the ground, but I didn't mind. I ended up with my head resting on his chest. He pointed again and traced his finger in a strange pattern across the sky. "You see there?" he waited for my nod, then continued. "That is Leo…" he continued on in this way for a long time, tracing out the patterns, letting my inexperienced eye fallow them, then explaining the story behind them.

We lay silent for a while, looking up at the diamond-studded sky before I finally spoke. "Father… father used to tell me that when we die we – we," I chocked on a sob. Somehow, still when I thought of my father, I couldn't help but feel the overwhelming grief.

"Shhh…" Erik murmured after a moment, pulling me closer. His gesture really was comforting.

"He used to say that when we… die… we become a star… that the stars are angels watching over loved ones," I managed to say it. Erik remained silent for a moment. "Do you think Papa is watching me right now?"

I heard him sigh quietly. "Perhaps," was all he said. I knew it was because he didn't believe. But maybe he thought that stating such would upset me.

"What… what do you think happens when we die?" he had been in such a good mood that I thought that perhaps I could get away with a few of my questions.

"I honestly don't know, Christine… I've never much thought about it. Only to realize that if there is a God, he must hate me," he spoke quietly, but the sadness was easily detected in his voice. I remained silent. He soon sighed. "This is not a subject that young girls such as you should pursue, though. It is too grim."

I couldn't suppress my yawn, and Erik pulled me closer to him. "You must be tired," he said gently. "We should return… it is rather late."

I shook my head. "Only –" I yawned again, "Only give me another moment." I was very reluctant to leave.

"Hmmm, dear Christine isn't afraid of the dark?" he teased me lightly, despite our previous tension only moments before.

"No, not anymore," I lied lightly.

He laughed a deep, melodious laugh. "Christine, you are not very good at lying." I glared at him lightly, trying to keep his mood the way it was. It really was a pleasant change. "We really should return though, dear."

I made to protest, but he silenced me with a finger to my lips. "We will come back soon."

"Promise?" I asked quietly, though my mind began to haze with my need for sleep.

"I promise," he said quietly. I soon felt myself being lifted onto the horse, and his own body fallowed soon. When his arms went around me, I relaxed into his chest once again, listening to the steady tattoo of his heart.

The journey back seemed much shorter, but it could have been because of my dozing off, only to be awakened when he moved me.

He lay me gently in my bed, and I felt him pull the covers up over my body. His hand lingered on my neck, but he eventually pulled away. I caught his hand in mine, and he looked at me silently.

"Erik… thank you," I said quietly. He only smiled slightly. "Hold me?" this was becoming a constant routine. His arms were soon around me, and I smiled at the familiarity of it.

"Goodnight, Christine," he whispered into the darkness.

"Goodnight, Erik," I returned. I was surprised as I added on in the back of my mind, almost so small that I could barely hear it myself, 'I love you.'

I drifted off to sleep then, happier than I had been in a long while.

**A/N: So, I couldn't resist. I love the sweetness in this chapter… It was a lot of fun to write ^.^ I hope you like it as much as I did.**

**So, why so much angst then this fluffy goodness? Because I felt like it (:**

**I do want to say, though, thank you so much to those of you who reviewed! You keep me writing. I can't tell you how many times I read and re-read your reviews, then re-read my other chapters. I was at a total loss for a moment there.**

**Anyway… thank you! Lemme know what you thing by clicking those little blue words (;**

**Your faithful and obedient writer,**

**Queen of Hearts**


	8. Chapter 8

**Disclaimer: I do not own the Phantom of the Opera, nor will I ever own Erik, sadly. We all know he owns me (:**

Funny how things change, isn't it? How one moment we can be absolutely terrified of something, yet in the next moment find it to be the source of our joy. Perhaps dancing, singing, running, swimming, whatever it may be makes no difference, really. As a little girl, I used to be terrified of swimming. Even when Papa was there, I ran from the deep blue liquid, fearing drowning in its unforgiving arms. One day, Papa told me that if I did not swim, then I would not be allowed to accompany him into town the next day. I loved Papa, and going into town with him was the light of my days in those times – he would play on his violin and I would sing along. I dreaded being left alone in the old, cold house, so I did as he asked. He held me above the water first, then slowly dipped me into it. By the end of the day, I found myself giggling, loving the sport that I had so desperately avoided. It wasn't long before I was plunging into its depths, all by myself. Papa was so proud. Well, sometimes I wonder what would have happened had Papa never done that, never forced me. Sometimes we need a little push to go over that border, to accept and try.

I suppose that was what I needed now. Only my push wasn't as gentle this time… and Papa wasn't there to make it all seem alright. No, only me. It happened one cold night, sitting in front of the fireplace, Erik sitting in a large armchair and me at his feet. I had asked him to read me a story – oh, how his voice could soothe me. I would close my eyes and let his voice wash over all my senses, blocking out all my thoughts, all my concerns, and concentrating solely on the beauty in his angel's voice.

He began to cough slightly, and it startled me enough to open my eyes and look at him. Never had he been ill in the slightest – not to my remembrance, anyway. He smiled lightly, telling me it was okay, then clearing his throat and continuing on. I let my eyes close again, satisfied with his response. But then it happened again, only this time he gasped loudly. He seemed to have lost his breath, and this time I stood and turned to him.

"Erik, are you alright?" I heard my own childishness in my question, and he only nodded, though I knew he was lying. His hand clutched at his chest and he stooped over, gasping all the while. I put my hand on his back and could feel him shaking. He coughed a few more times, and I knelt before him. "Erik, say something…" he looked at me, stared into my eyes, and his breathing slowly calmed back to normal, and he leaned back into his chair, closing his eyes and bringing his hand to his head.

"My apologies, dear Christine," he said, opening his eyes and looking at me. I must have looked a mess, my mouth hanging wide open, staring impolitely. He smiled a shaky smile. "You needn't worry, child."

My mind took a few moments to break through the strange fog that clouded it. "Erik… Erik, does… does that happen… often? Are you okay? What… what happened?" The questions came one after another now, and I gave him no time to respond. My shock was immediate, and I knew the signs couldn't be good ones – I remembered the same thing happening to Papa only a few months before his death, and found myself shuddering at the thought of Erik actually lying dead in the coffin.

His fingers trembled as he tucked a lock of hair gently behind my ear. "I am fine, my dear. Why would you think otherwise?" He was spinning stories again, yet my childlike nature left me forcing myself to believe him. I tried to erase the last moment from my mind, but found it to be there, burning forward even as I denied its existence.

I smiled at him gently, ignoring the horrid feeling of foreboding that overtook me. "There, that's better," he said, shifting slightly, sitting up again. "Christine needn't worry for her poor Erik." He lifted the book again, turning the pages till he found the last paragraph. "Ah, here we were…" he began to read again, but I found I couldn't concentrate now, not at all. There was a strange fear bubbling up within me, and I could no longer deny it.

Oh, I knew he was going to die. When, whether it would be sooner or later I knew not. Nor did I know what would become of me when he did. But I surprisingly found that I didn't care much. The only thing that mattered to me in that moment was Erik, my only thoughts of him and his impending death. The signs loomed ominously over me, yet I tried to deny them, succeeded in ignoring them most times.

After a few moments, he sighed and shut the book. "Christine is bored now, is she not?" he asked me gently. I let my back rest against his legs still, my head resting on his knee. His hand came down and soothingly stroked my blonde locks. I smiled slightly, and closed my eyes, allowing myself to be absorbed into the moment, refusing reality and ignoring my grim situation.

He sighed again. "Would Christine accompany Erik to the piano?" I nodded and rose. I fallowed close behind him. He led me to his room and took a place on the piano bench, patting the space beside him. I could barely remember the last time I had heard his music, nor the last time I had sung, and I eagerly took the place.

At first he only played for me. I was overwhelmed again by the music – I hadn't remembered the intensity of it, the emotion that he somehow managed to put into it. It manipulated my senses, making everything else fade away, leaving only me and him. The rest of the world seemed to be gone, dead to me and my sense.

It all ended far too abruptly, and I found myself pulled from my silent revelry by Erik's scrutinizing stare. "Would… would Christine like to sing? It has been far too long since Erik has heard her lovely voice."

I nodded and was surprised when, after standing and moving beside him, he rose as well. He put one hand on my back, the other on my stomach, straightening me into a proper position. His hot breath was on my ear as he said, "There, much better." I felt the strange swelling of heat in my lower stomach, but pushed it far from my mind, trying to ignore its existence and focus on the music.

I quickly realized that I recognized the song, and came in on my cue. It wasn't long before the music stopped abruptly, and Erik glared angrily at me. "Sing out, Christine. Out! If I cannot hear you, then you mine as well not be singing."

I took a deep breath and nodded, at which he began playing again. I was horrified when I heard my own voice crack, and the music stopped again. I felt a blush rise up, spreading heat through my body. He looked at me, and I only murmured, "I-I'm sorry. I don't know what's gotten into me today."

He sighed. "Again." And the music began. I closed my eyes, trying to focus on the music, blocking out any other thoughts penetrating my mind. It seemed to work, for we got through the whole piece. He only sighed again. "Christine… I cannot listen to you sing one more note."

I wouldn't admit my embarrassment, or my hurt, but it really did hurt me. I drew in a deep breath. "Was it really that horrible?" my voice was small, and I knew that I betrayed myself.

He regarded me with weary eyes, and rose. He stood before me, and I couldn't help but feel a small intimidation as he came near me. He grasped my chin in a slender hand and brought it up, forcing me to look into his eyes. "You have to feel the music, Christine," he grasped my waist and pulled me close, causing me to gasp. "You have to _understand_ it." All too suddenly he released me, and inspected me again. He turned and sat back at the piano. "Again," he repeated.

This time I closed my eyes, focusing on the music, trying to picture his slender movements in my mind, his hands gently caressing the keys as a lover would a body. I felt my slight blush, but continued despite it. My mind was chiding itself for sinful thoughts, but I pushed it to the back of my mind, ignoring it and silencing my only protests. When I opened my eyes, it was to find Erik gazing at me intently.

"Was… was that better?" his gaze was intense upon me, and I found myself trembling under it, barely able to concentrate on the task at hand.

"Yes, Christine. Much better," was his breathy reply. He sat and kept his gaze intent upon me, then smiled in the slightest. I found myself moving to sit beside him on the bench, as it seemed that he wasn't going to play for the moment. I selfishly let my hand caress the keys, careful not to press to hard. I didn't want a noise, just to feel the ivory under my finger tips. "Do you know how to play?"

I looked up and saw that his eyes were gentle now, the intensity faded. "No… only a few chords Papa taught me."

He regarded me curiously, then a small smile played at his lips. "Your Father really loved music, no?"

"Oh yes. He was a famous violinist, you know. He played many instruments, but the violin was his favorite… we used to travel into towns together. He would play and I would sing… oh, it was lovely!" I found myself replying lightly, replaying my childhood in my mind. I looked up to see him watching me intently.

"Would you like to learn to play?" his easy gaze made me smile, and I nodded intently. It really had always been a desire of mine, to learn the piano.

"Papa… he was going to teach me, but then he…"

He cut me off. "I know, Christine." He took my hands in his, gently, and placed them on the keyboard. His fingers were much larger than mine, and his hands enveloped mine completely. He guided my hands over the keys, lightly pressing them down. I couldn't help my smile as he closed his eyes and continued on, a smile on his face.

I giggled as he began playing a soft, lighthearted tune, and was surprised at the ease with which he moved. He never faltered, and guided me so easily it seemed natural, as if he had done it every day of his life. He finished the piece dramatically, moving my fingers quickly, dipping them gently into the groves of the keys. When he finished and looked at me, I couldn't help but smile in return. "Thank you, Erik."

"I could teach you so much. So much, child, if you would release this fear of yours," he looked stoically into my eyes, not removing his hands from mine. Instead, he enclosed them within his own, pulling them closer to him and gazing down, almost as if in admiration.

"Erik I… I don't know what you speak of," I lied. I knew exactly what he spoke of, but I wasn't quite ready to relinquish myself entirely. I knew that once I lost myself below the surface, there would be no going back. I would never be the same, nor would anything else.

"Yes you do, Christine." He released one of my hands, and brought his own up to touch my face. I shivered, though why I'm not quite sure. "You know exactly what I speak of, yet you seek assurance in your childish lies. You cannot remain a child forever, dear." He gently kissed my forehead, and I leaned into it, for whatever reason. Soon, though I am not quite sure how, I was pulled close to him, his arms around me and his chin resting on top of my head.

I took a deep breath. "Erik?"

"Hmmm?"

"Ne-never mind," I said quietly, backing out at the last moment. I always had played the coward, refusing to admit my feelings, refusing to give up that little bit of control that I still had.

I knew he already knew what I was going to say, for he breathed in deeply and said, "You can't avoid it forever, Christine." He spoke so gently that one would think he spoke to a small child. I only snuggled into his arms, pretending for the first time in a long while that it was Raoul's strong arms around me, his chest into which I leaned, his breath upon my ear – and for the first time, I found the thought to be unwelcomed.

I clenched my eyes shut tightly, trying to clear my mind. How did this man make me feel such strange things? One moment he could be horrific, the next tender and loving. I could go from hating him to loving him within a moment. But no, I had never truly hated him, I realized this. Not even that horrific night that seemed so long ago – not when he almost killed Raoul, not when he came so close to stealing my innocence. Something compelled me to always forgive him.

His gentle kiss to my head pulled me back to the moment. I kept my eyes clenched shut, horrified at what I was about to say yet refusing to deny it any longer. I took a deep breath and opened my eyes, turning to look into his. The hopefulness in them caused my breath to hitch in my throat for a moment, but I forced myself to concentrate.

"Erik?" I began again. He only continued to stare at me, and I took that as my hint to continue. "Erik… I… I love you." I took a deep breath with the words, finding that I suddenly felt much lighter, breathing became easier.

The look upon his face nearly caused my heart to stop beating… he looked so pitiful, so disbelieving. His eyes filled with tears and he took my face in his hand again. "Christine…" he moaned, almost as though he were in pain. "Christine… do you mean it?"

I felt my own tears streaming down my cheeks as I nodded gently, allowing him to pull me into his arms, nearly crushing me as he clung to me, sobbing loudly. I wrapped my arms tightly around him, allowing him to feel me pulling closer, not recoiling. He sobbed into my hair for a long while, and I began to fear I would break from his tight grip on me, but I was careful to not complain. I could feel the bruises forming but chose to ignore it.

"I love you," I repeated softly, pulling him tighter in my grasp. I realized this was the first time I had truly admitted it to myself as well. My mind was filled with a haze now, my only thoughts being of Erik, the only sensations I felt were those of his arms around me. It seemed as if time itself stopped. I smiled to myself.

"Oh, Christine…" he moaned quietly. "You don't know how long I've waited to hear that… Oh, Christine." His face was buried deep into my hair, and I realized with a pang what kind of pain he must be in. It was strange… I had expected the words to make everything better, but now he only sobbed pitifully, holding me as though he feared I would run. His fingers twisted into my hair, more roughly than I think he planned it.

I gasped of pain, and he quickly released me, pulling back quickly, ending only when he was across the room. He folded his hands behind his back and gazed at the floor. "Erik is sorry," he said gently. "He didn't mean to hurt Christine."

I frowned at his strange behavior, and rose to walk across the room to him. I stopped just before him and reached out hesitantly, grasping his hands in my own. I looked up into his surprised eyes and smiled. "You didn't hurt me, Erik. It's okay."

"Oh, Christine is too good to her Erik, too good!" He fell to his knees, and I didn't try to pull him up. He bowed pitifully before me, almost as though worshipping my feet. His hands grasped the hem of my skirt and he looked up at me imploringly. "Would… would Christine repeat it for her dear Erik?"

I sank to my knees with him again, and took his face gently in my hands. "I. Love. You. Erik." I punctuated each word with a gentle kiss to his face, his forehead, each cheek, his chin. He closed his eyes slowly, and when they opened, he seemed horrified at himself.

He pulled away quickly and rose to his feet. "Forgive me, Christine. I seem to have forgotten myself." He offered me his hand and helped me up, then regarded me carefully for a moment. "Christine… if you could have anything in the world, anything you desired, what would it be?"

His question had been hesitant, and I thought carefully as to my answer. What did I desire? Well, what had I thought I lost? "A… a wedding. A true, real wedding." I hadn't been expecting my own answer, and by the look on his face, he hadn't either.

"Very well," he said quietly, regarding me curiously. "A wedding it is."

He turned and left me then, to spend a night alone for the first time in a very long time.

**A/N: So, the rating will change in the next chapter, and you will all get what you've been waiting for. Don't expect it to be too romantic though… more angsty. Anywho, I'm very proud of this chapter, especially the beginning. Please don't kill me… we all knew he was gonna die. I won't tell you when, though (: Don't despair too much, though, it will be a while away.**

**I read, re-read, then re-read this chapter, debated holding out for a while, then re-read again. Then decided eh, what the heck, I'll just throw it out there and see how it does.**

**I'm considering writing a companion when this one is over, from Erik's P.O.V. Opinions? I'm sure you all have one, so you should click the little blue letters at the bottom of the page and let me know what they are (: Okay, enough begging. Just be sure to look out for my next chapter in the "M" category.**

**Your faithful writer,**

**Queen of Hearts**


	9. Chapter 9

**A/N: Here's what you've been waiting for so long (: I hope you like it, and go easy on me – this is the first time I've written something like this.**

When I woke, I found myself utterly and completely alone. I curled closer into the pillows, yawning and wishing I could fall back into the slumber again. But I knew that I wouldn't, so I gave up after a good half an hour of trying. When I finally gave up and rolled over, I came face-to-face with a glaring white paper.

Picking it up, I found it to be a note, written in the clumsy red hand that I knew so well.

_Dearest Christine,_

_I will be returning soon, you needn't worry. I have a few things to take care of for tonight… I expect you to dress well, Christine, and warmly. Be ready by the time I return, which will be around three o'clock. You will find my pocket watch on the table beside you, wound to the correct time._

_Until tonight, with love,_

_Erik._

I suddenly felt fear bubble forth as I remembered our promise… I was to be married today, before the law and God's eyes. A shudder went through me as I tried to repress the strange feeling in my stomach. What of the wedding night? Perhaps I hadn't thought all of this through… hadn't entirely expected him to arrange everything so soon.

I lifted the watch to inspect the time, and gasped aloud when I saw it. I had only three hours to prepare! I had slept late, usually apt to waking early… perhaps it was only Erik's movements that awoke me, though. It was strange, how in tune to his schedule I had become – how off everything seemed when he was gone.

The first thing I did was panic – which seemed to be my natural reaction to everything lately. I hadn't a dress, yet I was to have a wedding! I dug through my closets, pulling out clothing, throwing it everywhere, rather uncaring of where it landed or the fragileness of each article. I began to cry of frustration, as nothing seemed fit to the occasion. Often I had dreamt of my wedding day, and I had always wanted to be the perfect bride – blushing, laughing, colorful, _happy_. None of it would be right, though, I realized with a pang of sadness. I hadn't a dress, I was pale and sickly. The groom wasn't the one that I had imagined since childhood… happiness, though. Was I happy? I had to admit, even to myself, that I was, in one way or another, happy.

Oh, I couldn't deny it - I did love Erik. But I feared him as well, if not more, than as much as I loved him. I pitied him, yet found myself wishing things upon him. I wanted to devote myself to him, yet I wished to run at the same time. How could things be so confusing? Nothing used to be this complicated, this difficult… why couldn't things just go back to the way they were? When Erik was nothing more than an Angel of Music, I a naive girl, Raoul a simple suitor.

Raoul. I felt as though I had been horribly unfaithful to poor Raoul, and perhaps I had been. I justified myself in thinking that I had saved his life, and whatever I did was only to secure his safety. I knew it wasn't true, though. How many times had I given him thought? Not as often as I should have been… perhaps it was only out of selfishness, then, that I did save him. Perhaps I wasn't the sacrificial lamb, the bait, but rather the sinful creature. How many lives had I led astray, whether intentionally or not? Oh, I loved Raoul dearly, even now, but I found myself wondering whether I should have never recognized him – whether I should have never spoken to him. It would have broken his heart, but he would never have been in so much danger.

I shook my head, clearing my thoughts. I was only torturing myself with what ifs and whys. It was pointless to do, as I myself knew that they would never become.

I forced myself to draw a warm bath – I couldn't remember when I had last had one, and knew I needed it desperately. Besides, if nothing else could be right, I could at least look pretty for Erik. His smiles and approval really did become all that I lived for recently – there was nothing else. There I go, making excuses for myself again – even now I was selfish.

The warm water was soothing to my cold skin, and I found myself undressing quickly as a chill went through my body. It seemed as if I were constantly cold. I started when I looked down at myself and noticed the already-yellowing bruises from the night before. They were large, and wrapped nearly all the way around my mid-section. They were tender to the touch, and I found myself wincing at the thought of a corset. Nevertheless, I would have to make the most out of it.

The water was welcoming, and I found myself resting in it for far longer than necessary, letting it soak in and wrinkle my skin slightly. When I finally decided that I had to continue, or else I would never be ready, I moved on to find something to wear.

I simply wrapped myself in a towel – no need for modesty, for I was alone – and began to search again. Only when I entered the room, I found that it wasn't quite how I left it – all the clothing that I had tossed to the floor in my rush was hung neatly in my closet again, and I found myself gasping out loud at the magnificent gown that rested on my bed. There was another note attached, and I grasped it greedily, letting my eyes devour the clumsy handwriting yet again.

_Dearest,_

_I thought you may be in need of a gown – I do not wish to leave you unprepared. I hope that you find this to your liking. _

_Until tonight, my love,_

_Erik_

I tossed the note aside, not giving it much thought except to think to thank him later, and quickly grasped the dress. It was beautiful – perhaps the most beautiful dress that had ever been within my grasp. Though modest, I could see that it would cling to my curves, accentuating them almost scandalously so, yet loose enough to be considered acceptable. It had intricate beading all around the bodice and the entire dress seemed to shimmer in the candlelight. There were at least three layers of lace, thick and creating an illusion of floating.

When I finally managed to fully don myself in my under garments, managing to minimize the pain of the corset, I pulled the gown on gingerly. It was cut perfectly to my measurements, and I found myself blushing at the thought of Erik knowing my measurements. He had bought me gowns before, but I had never considered how he knew them… yet now I found that it didn't matter much. I was already bound to him by word, and now I was to be bound to him before God's eye and the law – why would he not know such intimate details of me?

My next feat to conquer was my hair – what a mess it was! It especially upset me as I was alone, and couldn't reach all the way down to comb through it. I managed to do it, though, by twisting my head and combing it over my shoulders. It may not have been a perfect method, nor a comfortable one, but at least it was no longer the mess that it had been.

After contemplating it for a while, I ended up pulling it into a large bun. Nothing else seemed to look right. Looking myself in the mirror, I felt a cloud of regret come over me for the hours of time spent in the cellars and away from the daylight – I only seemed to be turning from the sick yellow pallor to a sick grey pallor. I tried pinching my cheeks lightly to bring some color to them, but it only lasted a few moments before the blood drained from my face again, so after battling for a few minutes, I decided to give up on my futile efforts before I really hurt myself.

When I checked the watch next, I felt my heart do an awful lurch. It was only fifteen minutes to three and Erik would be returning soon. I was nearly ready now, and hadn't anything else to do to prepare myself except to think, which always seemed to end badly for me.

My first thoughts were of the wedding. I wasn't really sure why I had asked for it – it would only be binding me to Erik irrevocably, which was the one thing that I had feared for so long. Yet I found that it did not quite affect me in the same way anymore… I knew that he wouldn't be around forever – perhaps a few years, months, weeks, or mere days. However long he had left, I knew that it wasn't long at all, not in the grand scheme of things. No, it wasn't the legality of it that bothered me, nor the wedding, really. No, I thought it was rather touching that Erik would go to the lengths to arrange all of this – I knew it would be quite dangerous for him, and I also knew of his great dislike for God. It would be difficult for him to step into a chapel, yet he would do it for me anyway.

No, it wasn't the wedding. Yet I still felt cold dread spread through my lower stomach almost as the liquid heat had when Erik had touched me the night before. I knew what I feared, though my virginal mind caused me to blush at such indecent thoughts. Today, I was to be married to Erik, I was giving myself to him completely. He already had my mind, my soul, and now he could rightfully take my body as his own. Nothing would be stopping him anymore – no legal bounds and no moral teachings. And what made me the most afraid was that I knew, even in that moment, that I would not stop him. As sickening as it was, I wanted to belong to Erik – if only to belong at all. I think what I feared most of all was giving up all the controls that I had, letting go and moving only by my feelings. It was still something that I feared above all else, because there would be no going back.

In mere moments, I heard his footsteps echoing off of the walls. I felt my stomach drop, though in excitement or fear I am not sure. It didn't take long before he appeared in the doorway. He wore a handsome black mask with a dark wig, patted down for the occasion. He looked as if he were a nobleman, dressed in such fine clothes as he was. He held out his hand to me, bidding me to come, and I found myself drawn to him nearly irresistibly, as if the fluid motion of his hand controlled me completely.

When I drew near he stopped me. He left for a moment and returned with a light fabric – it was long and thin, which he placed atop my head. A veil. The only piece that I had been missing and I hadn't even thought of it. His fingers lingered on my shoulders with a feather-like touch.

"The perfect bride," he whispered. "My **living** bride."

I smiled and he looped his arm through mine. I was rather grateful for his tight hold on me; for I feared that I might fall from the force of my silent tremors. He led me slowly, never once releasing my arm. Outside of the Rue Scribe waited another brougham, only this time a driver sat atop it.

"Forgive me, Christine, I hadn't the time to organize everything so… comfortably, one may say, and had need to hire someone. Worry not, though, he is trustworthy."

Erik helped me into the waiting brougham then climbed in after me, leaving me plenty of room to myself. He tapped on the top of it, and we lurched forward. "You know, love, we are going to the Madeleine. Oh, how beautiful it is! I am quite sure you will find it to your liking."

It was amazing, but only with those few words he had managed to soothe me completely. The ride wasn't all too long – only a few minutes, really. He helped me out of the brougham tenderly, lightly grasping my hand in his. I was surprised at how deserted the area was – this was normally a large church, but now it seemed as if we were the only people in sight.

The many splendored columns seemed to loom over me, somewhat ominously. It left a strange sensation behind – not fear, but not elation either. Words didn't seem to explain it, as I had never felt anything close to it before. It only seemed to grow as Erik pulled me behind him. It seemed as though my foreboding grew almost as fast as his excitement, for our speed increased with each step as he led me up the many marble stairs to the church.

The inside of the church was even more magnificent than I had expected. I had never actually been inside of the church, only around the outside to admire the beauty of the structure. I never thought that I would be married inside of it! The thought was nearly overwhelming.

His hand tugged me toward the alter and the tall, kind looking priest awaiting us. "Wait, Erik. May I have… a few moments to myself to pray? Please?"

He looked indecisively at me for a moment, but nodded eventually. "Five minutes, Christine. I will be waiting for you, love. Please hurry along."

I nodded slightly and whispered a "thank you" then went over to a small, private area. I knelt down and bowed my head. I squeezed my eyes shut tightly and began to whisper the words, hoping no-one would over hear them. "God, let me be doing the right thing… please, lord, I love him, I really do. I know he is a sinner, lord, but I… I want to save him. Help me save him. And if Papa is there… Papa, I think you would like Erik. I like to think you would approve of him. He is kind, and really does take care of me. He is a musician, Papa, an amazing one. Lord, give me strength," I quickly crossed myself then rose to meet my awaiting fiancée. Fiancée, a strange way to think of Erik.

He smiled when I looked at him and held his hand out to me. There was no music – no doubt because Erik would have cringed at another's playing. I smiled a nervous smile in return and took his hand when we reached the small alter.

The service wasn't long as a typical service was, but it was sweet. Erik gave my hand occasional comforting squeezes. I found it slightly difficult to get out the small "I do," but I managed to, though my throat constricted around the syllables.

"You may kiss the bride," were the last words I heard from the Priest, and Erik wasted no time, sliding his mask up ever-so-slightly to expose his lips. I melted into his embrace and found myself immediately glad for his arms around me to hold me up. He didn't break the kiss when he picked me up bridal-style.

I laughed, truly and honestly laughed, for the first time in a long time and wrapped my arms around his neck, burying my head in the crook of his neck. I remember thinking to myself that I was happy. I think I would have been content to die right there, in his embrace, and never wake up to the cold reality that would slowly but surely settle upon me.

He sat me on the seat in the brougham, whispering that he would return shortly, and I heard the muffled voices of him and the driver but couldn't really make out the words. When he finally took a seat across from me, he looked extremely nervous.

We lurched forward, and when I looked out the window I came to realize that we were no longer going toward the Opera, but toward the countryside.

"Erik, where are we going?" I found myself growing suddenly nervous with apprehension of what would happen when we finally did arrive wherever we were going.

He smiled slightly and absently grasped my hands. "No matter, dear, you will know soon enough. It is my sort of surprise for you, and I only hope that you do like it so much as I have."

I decided to leave it there – he obviously didn't want me to know – but that didn't stop my curiosity from growing.

It seemed as if we were in that small cab for hours, but it had really only been about half an hour when we finally stopped. "Wait here and don't look," Erik said softly. "I need to make sure everything is ready."

He left me there and was only gone for about five minutes, in which I had to resist the overwhelming urge to pull back the curtain and peek at whatever this thing was that he was being so secretive about, but I managed to stay put.

When he returned, he looked at me for a moment and said, "Christine, you trust me, right?" I nodded my head. "Then close your eyes and come here."

It was a strange request but I did as he asked. It took only a moment for his gentle hands to guide me down the steps and onto the ground, then he moved one up to cover my eyes and guided me with the other. I found myself laughing when he had to catch me from tripping, and was soothed by his own quiet, melodious chuckle.

After a few moments we stopped walking and he whispered into my ear, "Surprise, Christine."

I gasped when he uncovered my eyes. "Erik… is it ours? Truly ours?"

He nodded and smiled at the bemused look on my face. It was a cottage, but not really. I mean, it was in the country, and there were no other houses in sight, but it was far larger than a cottage. It was practically a full sized house! It was slightly run-down and maltreated, but it would only take a little bit of cleaning to be a home.

"Oh, Erik, thank you!" I squeezed him tightly, and his arms went gently around me.

"I promised you a home in the country, sweet Christine." I looked up at him and he smiled slightly. "Would you like to see the inside?"

I nodded enthusiastically and he took my hand gently, leading me into our new home. It was so strange to be above ground and think of it as home – it really hadn't been that long, yet it felt as if I had never lived in a real house.

He showed me from room to room. There was a library, though it was nearly empty. He assured me that it would soon be filled when we got the chance to move everything. There was a music room as well, which seemed to be one of the largest rooms, with walls lined with instruments, some common and others I had never seen in my life. The grandest of them all, though, were the large pipe organ and the great grand piano, which was carved with miniscule designs all over.

The last room he showed me was the bedroom. I had to take a deep breath to steady myself, and I felt the butterflies rise in my stomach once again. It really was a pretty room – red walls and carpet to match, golden accents. There was a large four-poster bed, which was golden, with a large, draping black canopy.

I could feel myself shaking as he spoke quietly. "I hope that you find everything to your liking, love. If not, Erik will change it of course. It will take a bit of work, but in time it will be all you have ever dreamed of, this I assure you."

"Erik… it already is. Thank you," I said, covering his hands with mine. It was now or never – I knew I would never get the courage up again, so I decided it must be now.

I moved slowly, still shaking, and gently removed his mask. He watched me emotionlessly, analyzing every move I made. I closed my eyes and kissed him with all the feeling and passion I could muster, completely losing myself. I brought one hand up to his face and the other helped me pull his head closer to me. After a few moments, I felt his hands go to my waist to pull me closer, and his mouth opened slightly to me. I decided that I might as well experiment, and opened my mouth to him as well, then let my tongue explore his mouth. I heard him slightly gasp, but he made no protest and only mimicked my movements.

When we finally pulled back, we were both breathing heavy, trying to catch our breaths. "Erik, I love you," I barely whispered. It was enough – his lips crashed against mine again and he lifted me into his arms, never breaking the kiss, even when he laid me gently on the mattress. I felt the strange feelings bubble in my stomach again, but this time I wasn't sure if it was fear or excitement.

He pulled back and caressed my face lightly. "Christine, I love you."

My hand wandered up to lightly trace his deformity, and his eyes closed tightly. "There must be a God," his shaky voice said. "The only way this could ever happen to me is with a miracle."

I let my hands wander down, and his eyes shot open when I guided his hands down to my bodice. He looked at me uncomprehendingly, and I whispered, "I am yours, Erik."

"Are-are you certain you want this, Christine?" He sounded small and disbelieving.

I nodded. "Take me for yourself, Erik, I am yours."

His hands were quick and nimble, undoing the ties with incomparable grace. Soon, I was left in only my undergarments. I felt extremely nervous – I had never been this exposed before a man before, except that night, and even then it had been dark… now the light came in through the windows. Though we were extremely shadowed and the sun would be disappearing within minutes, I felt nervous – what if he saw me and didn't like what he saw? No, that was silly. It was Erik – he loved me and always would.

His hands were slow, and soon I felt them on my corset strings. It slightly tickled as he pulled them out. Soon I was left before him in only my chemise again. He let his eyes wander over me, drinking in the sight of me, and I felt a strange nervousness come over me. I felt his hands caress my entire body as he pulled the last piece of my undergarments over me, leaving me fully exposed to him. He gasped immediately, his hands going to my bruised waist.

"I… did I do this, Christine?" his voice shook horribly.

"Yes, Erik, but it's alright… I'm alright."

"I'm so sorry, Christine, I shouldn't ha-" I cut him off by pressing my lips against his, silencing his protests.

When he pulled back, his eyes wandered my naked body again, and his hands soon followed, gently caressing me and causing me to shiver slightly. I smiled and laughed slightly as his clothing tickled me lightly. My hands travelled to his jacket to begin undressing him. He helped me by shrugging it off and tossing it onto the pile already on the floor.

My hands caressed his arms through the thin shirt, and I soon tucked them under his collar, and he unbuttoned it, shrugging it down as well. I gasped at the sight of him – his body was scarred beyond as far as I thought possible. My fingers gently traced them, then I kissed him lightly.

"What happened?" I asked quietly, my hands still wandering unashamed.

He smiled gently at me and caught my hands in his, pinning them above my head. "It is nothing of any consequence right now, dear Christine." He kissed me gently, pinning me down and tickling me with his gentle lips.

It soon became too much for me and I bucked my body up against him, earning a groan from him as he released my arms. "Please," I said quietly, not quite sure what I had been begging for, but wanting it all the same.

He nodded and rose to his knees to pull his trousers off. I had never seen a man nude before, and found my eyes widening at the length and thickness of the thing. It looked extremely foreign to me, and I found myself trembling in fear beneath him.

He settled himself between my legs and I could feel the strange thing against me. He took my hands in his, squeezing them gently. "I love you, Christine," he whispered. His lips claimed mine just as he forced himself inside of me, swallowing my scream of pain.

I had heard that it would hurt but, my God, I had never expected that sort of pain! It felt as if he were ripping me in half. I was whimpering quietly, and his lips planted soft kisses all over my face as he whispered words of apology. I didn't want him to feel so horribly bad, so I managed to quiet myself and say that it was okay.

He began to pump himself in and out of me, slowly at first, but then faster and faster till everything seemed to go numb and leave me with a dull thudding pain. It seemed to go on forever, but soon he shuddered, letting out a soft cry before collapsing next to me, still inside of me.

"I love you so much, Christine… thank you," he kissed me gently as he pulled out of me quickly, leaving me feeling utterly empty and alone.

I let him hold me close to him, wrapping his arms around me. I loved Erik, I really did, but had I known what it would have been, I would never have allowed it to happen, not so quickly at least.

I fell asleep shortly, trying to ignore the dull thudding between my aching legs.

**A/N: Love it, hate it? Let me know by clicking those little blue buttons **

**So, for those of you so upset about Erik's death, all I can say is that it will be a while, and that I warned you from the start. Go back and read the first two sentences of chapter one. Don't worry, it won't be a sad ending.**

**I hope you all enjoyed this chapter, and I'm sorry that it took so long to update. I hope this extra-long chapter made up for it!**

**I think it could have been better, but I think it's pretty good for a first try. I may go back and re-write or re-edit it later when I have time. But, anyway, I suppose I should go now!**

**Your faithful and obedient writer,**

**Mademoiselle Phantom**


	10. Chapter 10

The first thing I noticed upon waking was the soft sunlight streaming through the windows. I wasn't used to waking to light, and it took me a moment to recall where I was. When I remembered I groaned a little, pulled my pillow over my eyes, and rolled so that my face was buried in Erik's chest. I could feel his deep chuckle, and found that I couldn't resist giggling a little.

"Good morning, mon ange," he whispered as he pushed the pillow off of me. I smiled up at him, and couldn't help the small chill of delight that ran through my body when he claimed my lips. He kissed me slowly and deliberately. When he pulled back, he smiled and caressed my face lovingly. "I never imagined I would have an angel in my arms – you look even more beautiful in the daylight."

"T-thank you," I said, finding myself unused to his compliments, though I had often received them from him before. Things just seemed… different now. There was no logic behind it, and definitely no explanations. It was just different. Not in a good or a bad way.

We talked for a long while about everything and nothing. We built up an image of the perfect future. Talked of children and a house by the sea. He told me that he wanted to plant a rose garden for me – he knew how much I loved roses.

He held me close to him, his strong arms circling me protectively, and in that moment, as we built up our imaginary future – all the while laughing together – I realized that this was where I was meant to be. And I never wanted the moment to end.

Silence settled around us, and I found that I didn't mind it in the slightest. I curled closer to his embrace and savored the sensation of his hand lightly tracing up and down my back. I let my cheek rest on his chest and gently touched the ravaged flesh of his face. That's when I realized that he was crying. I could feel the wetness against my fingertips, and the restrained shudders of his body.

I propped myself up on one elbow and continued to stroke his cheek gently with the other, wiping the tears away as they fell. "What is it, Erik?"

He smiled sadly and said, "Nothing. It is nothing, Christine." Only I knew that it wasn't true, so I continued to stare at him until he laughed a slight, shaky laugh. "I'm just – happy is all. I never… I'm afraid that it's all just a dream. That I'll wake in that coffin in the dark, and you won't be there. But what a wondrous dream it would have been."

"I'm here, Erik. It's not a dream… I promise that I won't ever leave you alone again."

He smiled and let his fingers graze my jaw line lightly, almost feather-like. "I love you, Christine."

I kissed him, hard, on the lips, trying to put every piece of passion that I had into it, trying to show and not tell. And when I pulled back, I lay my head on his chest again, and his arms pulled me tight against him, clinging to me. "I love you too," I whispered, only so loud that he could hear it.

"I want to show you something, Christine, which I've been working on for a long while."

I nodded and he released me, attempting to hide himself as he pulled his trousers on. I couldn't help but stare at his back. I watched his muscles slide under the scar-covered expanse of his skin. I held back my slight sob at the thought of what the man must have endured. He rose and pulled his shirt on, carefully buttoning it before turning to look at me.

He bent and kissed my forehead tenderly. "Dress and come to the music room." His tone was commanding.

I nodded and he left. I breathed a sigh of relief. Somehow, even after what we had shared last night, I was afraid to be exposed before his eyes, afraid of what he would think or say. It was an irrational fear – Erik would think I was beautiful no matter what. Even now, as I am sickly pale, my eyes dark and baggy, my body losing weight, he calls me beautiful. He touches me as though he is afraid to break me.

I pulled on my clothes quickly, anxious to see what Erik may have to surprise me with. The man exuded a mystery beyond my comprehension. So unpredictable, able to snap at a moment's notice, yet so gentile and loving, tender even. I won't deny that he still frightens me – he does very much so – but I was finding that as he frightened me, my love for him only grew.

I examined myself in the vanity mirror, surprised by my slightly flushed appearance. My eyes held a slight sparkle to them – something I hadn't seen in a long time. I was still pale and sickly looking, but there was nothing to be done about that at the moment. Instead I focused on my hair, messed from a night of sleep. My brush was on the table, and I smiled at Erik's thoughtfulness – he had to have brought it here for me.

I ran it through my hair quickly and examined myself again, smiling. I decided to leave my hair down today – I knew Erik liked it. My hair seemed to be something that he touched often. So with that thought, I ventured into the unfamiliar house, using the tinkling I could hear on the piano as my guide.

When I entered, he turned to look at me and I felt myself shudder. He beckoned me toward him with a swift and fluid movement that I found impossible to resist. When I stood before him, he scooted over, patting the empty space on the piano bench next to him. I obeyed, and sat close by him, watching him curiously with my eyes.

"I've been composing again," he said as way of explanation. "But… but only for you."

I looked at him curiously. "What exactly are you saying, Erik?"

"These things… I no longer wish for my music to be heard by ears other than my own or yours, Christine." He smiled slightly at me. "It's like a secret… our secret. Something only for us."

And with that he turned and began on a piece, leaving me no need or time to respond. Words no longer mattered. The piece – well, I could attempt to explain it but I feel words would do it no justice. I have no way to explain it, nor do I wish to.

When it was finished, he only looked at me, as if waiting for praise, but all I could do was wrap my arms around him and rest my head on his shoulder. It took him a moment to react, but eventually his arms returned the favor, and his chin rested atop my head. He coughed a small cough, and I tried to ignore it.

"Christine…" he pulled back and looked at me close, then stood and offered his hand to me. "Would you dance with me?"

I laughed a little, but accepted his hand. "There's no music."

"Of course there is, love. You just cannot hear it," he said as he pulled me close to his body, one hand on the small of my back, the other firmly grasping me.

He began to sway, guiding me around the room, pulling me closer than proper and resting his chin on my head again. He began to hum, matching our bodies with his voice.

"Erik?"

"Hmm?"

"Can… can I ask you a question?" I could hear the timid hint of my own voice, and I was sure he could too.

He stopped our movement and pulled back, looking deeply into my eyes. His hand cupped my jaw and tilted my chin up. "Anything, love."

I looked down and quietly whispered, "Why me?"

"What do you mean?" he sounded slightly breathless.

"Why… out of everyone you could have picked… why did you pick me? The shy, weak, ugly chorus girl? There were plenty of other easily manipulated girls… why did you pick me to love?"

"Christine…" he sounded sad. "Look at me, Christine." I obeyed, lifting my eyes to meet his, surprised with the burning passion I felt there. "You are **not **ugly, to begin… it wasn't because I could manipulate you, Christine… I can't really explain it – you needed an angel. I could be that angel."

I furrowed my brow slightly. "But…?" I knew there was more.

"Dear Lord, Christine. You were so beautiful. I was so alone… I was so alone, but there you were – I needed you just as much as you needed me. I didn't care that I couldn't touch you, that you couldn't see me. I just needed someone to talk to, someone I could help… and then **he** came." His eyes darkened, as did his tone. "He came and I knew… I knew that you would leave." His hands moved and gripped my shoulders tightly. "I couldn't let you leave," he whispered. "I would have died. So I told you I would leave, that you had to give him up… and I tried. But dear God, your crying, your sobbing! I broke you, and I broke myself… I couldn't do it. Then that night I took you… I couldn't handle it. Your affections for him were growing, and I had to stop it." He was looking deep into my eyes. "When you saw my – your cry of fear. I was so angry, so, so angry." His tone was pleading.

"I'm sorry," I whispered, and his hands loosened, moving up to lightly hold my face again.

"I thought you would leave, that for sure you would run away – and you assured me otherwise. Oh, I knew that it wasn't truth, Christine, but I let you lie to me, let you control me, because I needed to believe it… and then that night on the rooftop, that night with the boy… I heard it all, Christine. You thought that I wasn't there, but I was – and that's when I knew that I had to stop it… Christine, if you would have left then, I would have died – I know I would have." I watched him warily, waiting for him to continue. His eyes clenched in pain. "I went… mad. I know that what I did was wrong, what I was doing was wrong. And then you said you would stay – Christine, you don't know how happy you've made me. I have never known true happiness before you… and then you kissed me. I nearly broke there, I nearly let you go… but I couldn't. I'm weak, Christine."

I let my eyes go downcast again, and he tilted my chin, kissing me desperately, almost begging. I kissed back, wrapping my arms around his neck and closing my eyes, allowing everything that he had said to sink in. We separated, but were so close that our breath mingled. "I love you, Erik," I whispered deliberately.

"I love you too, Christine, more than you will ever understand," he looked down at me. "You are so beautiful," he said, stroking my cheeks with his thumbs.

"I… I needed you too Erik," I confessed quietly. "I really did."

He put his chin atop my head and wrapped me in his arms tightly, pulling me against him. "I will take care of you, Christine… no matter what."

We stood there like that in silence for a long while, and I leaned into him, sighing contently. Somehow, only being wrapped in his embrace, I felt totally and completely safe.

"Thank you," I finally broke the silence.

"For what, dear child?" he began stroking my hair.

"For not letting me go."

There was a silence that fell after that, until he pulled back a few minutes later. "Will – will you sing for me?"

I nodded and followed him to the piano. He started in on a very familiar song, and I put everything that I could into it. When it finished, he turned and opened his arms to me. I sat in his lap and let him cradle me close to him. He hummed, and I nodded off to sleep, content in my angels embrace, trusting completely.

No matter what he told me, what he confessed to me, I don't think that my feelings toward him will change. I know that I love him, and I know that we need each other. And I know that however long it takes, I will learn the pains of his past. He is haunted by his own demons; I see it in his eyes. And I know that together we can face them.

**A/N: so, here it is! I hope you enjoy it. It may seem a little choppy – my brain works faster than my hands, but I'm anxious to hear what you think!**

**I'm sorry it took me so long to update. There are a million excuses that I can use, but I'm not gonna waste any of our times by using them.**

**So I'm hoping I'll be writing sooner next time.**

**For those of you still here and still waiting – Thank you so much! I love you all!**

**So please click those tiny blue letters and let me know what you think!**

**(P.S. – I finally have the ending laid out. But don't worry, our story isn't ready to come to an end just yet – there's at least a few more chapters before our ending comes ****)**

**Your (not so) faithful and obedient writer,**

**Mademoiselle Phantom**


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